


A Year Without Music

by Deans_Fetish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Bottom Sam, Broken!Sam, Dark fiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Hero!Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Schmoop, Swearing, Top Dean, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 103,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Sam is like Music to Dean, he fuels him, keeps him going, ignites a fire inside of him... One night, Sam gets taken away and Dean spends a year searching for his beloved Music.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters from the television show Supernatural nor the real live individuals that portray them though I wish to God that I did.

**_"Without you there's no change, my nights and days are gray, if I reached out and touched the rain, it just wouldn't feel the same. Without you I'd be lost, I'd slip down from the top, I'd slide down so low - you'd never never know... Without you, without you, a sailor lost at sea, without you - the world comes down on me, without you in my life, I'd slowly wilt and die, but with you in my life, you're the reason I'm alive..." ~ Motley Crue._ **

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~

Dean snuggles closer to Sam, his nose against the back of his brother's neck, inhaling the scent of Sam. Fresh and clean, kinda like berries and mint, and cedar and that underlying scent that was Sam alone, sweet and warm and perfect. 

A smile pulls at his lips as he tightened his arm around Sam's waist, even as his brother mutters in his sleep about being crowded and breath tickling him. 

Dean only chuckles softly, burrowing closer and feeling content, the alarm clock radio playing softly in the background.

*

Dean stands leaning against the side of the Impala, hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his leather, head bowed.

He can hear Sam walking toward him, hear his footfalls and the deep timbre of his voice as he kindly bids good morning to passersby. 

Dean ignores them and keeps his head down, avoids eye contact and shuffles his weight from one foot to the other.

Turning, Dean reaches inside the Impala and flips on the radio, a small smile pulls at his lips as the radio blares, chasing away the ghosts that haunt him, then he pulls back and turns, looking into champagne hazel eyes and his smile widens.

Sam hands him the coffee he's carrying with a smile and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Dean's lips, before Dean hangs his head, smiling wide, and raises his cup to his lips taking a sip of the hot dark brew as he eyes his brother over the rim.

*

"I can do it!" Sam argues.

Dean glares at him angrily, "Like hell you can!"

"Dean," Sam says his name, giving him that stubborn look.

"No, Sam! I won't have it, I am NOT gonna let you go into a fuckin' vampire nest alone!" Dean yells angrily, shaking his head, _"I'll_ go!"

"You!? Why you!?" Sam asks, like Dean's just called him a bad hunter or something.

Dean looks into Sam's eyes, "Because I won't let anything happen to you, that's why!" Dean snaps back before angrily marching forward and brushing past is brother, out the door, which he slams closed behind him.

Sam huffs and looks up toward the ceiling as he runs a hand through his hair shaking his head.

*

It's night and Dean has the alarm clock radio playing softly, the lights are all off in the motel room as he and Sam lay tangled in the sheets, bodies naked and sweaty, breaths panting out as they gaze lovingly at one another. 

Dean reaches over and cups Sam's face, thumb running slowly across his bottom lip, jade eyes tracking the motion of his thumb before they flicker up to meet Sam's hazel's. "Love you, Sammy." Dean whispers.

Sam smiles softly, sliding closer to his brother, as if that were possible and wraps his arms more tightly around him, "Love you too, Dean."

Dean lays, Sam's head pillowed on his shoulder, his brother's hand on his heart and stares up at the ceiling for a long while. "It's true you know?" Dean comments after a long while.

Sam frowns into the darkness, lifting his head to look down at his brother, "What is?"

Dean nods his head to the side, "The song, I would wilt and die without you."

Sam sighs and shakes his head, laying it back down on Dean's shoulder, "No, you'd just need to find someone else to boss around." he said, biting back a chuckle, before turning his head and kissing Dean's neck.

"Me too." Sam whispers softly and Dean's eyes slowly close.

*

It's two weeks before Christmas and there's snow piled so high on the ground Sam keeps frowning with every step he takes as he walks looking at it, mumbling about how he hates Christmas.

Dean watches him, shaking his head, wondering how someone, especially Sam, could hate _Christmas_.

As Sam reaches him, Dean puts an arm around Sam's waist and leans in, "I'll let you unwrap me later." he whispers softly and at least that got Sam to snicker softly and shake his head, the frown off his face.

They walk down the street lit up with Christmas lights, it's late, hella late, but the streets are busy, people hustling around shopping and doing what it is 'normal' people do at Christmas.

There's hardly any room to walk through the crowded streets in fact, so they aren't walking side by side, but Dean leading the way through the throng of people.

Sam's watching children run out of a store, two boys with their mother, who is telling them to slow down that they need to get to the car and get daddy's Christmas gift home. The boys remind him of himself and Dean, if they would have had a normal life anyway...

In the bustle, Sam looses sight of Dean, but he's not worried about it, Dean will figure it out, stop and wait for him, just like he always does.

But then the sidewalk narrows more and Sam finds himself walking toward an area where there aren't as many lights and no people. 

Did he loose track of where he was going when he was watching those kids?

Frowning, he heads back the way he came, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. 

He only makes it a few feet when there is a silhouette in front of him, but it's not Dean. 

Sam's hand automatically reaches back for his gun, alert and ready as his hand closes around the butt of his pistol.

Sadly, the snow cushioned the steps of the three behind him, who jump him before he can pull his gun out.

Sam punches and fights them off, he's doing a damn good job, until he's hit in the temple with a metal pipe, then the world goes black.

Dean's standing outside some girly shop, his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather as he's freezing. He's looking back the way he'd come, waiting for Sam to catch up, but it's been a damn long while, probably like ten minutes and no Sam.

Muttering a cuss word under his breath, Dean heads back the opposite way that they were suppose to be going as he looks for Sam. Not that he's hard to find, he's usually taller than every fuckin' body else.

Dean's made it all the way back to where they started at the Impala and still no Sam. 

_Shit!_

Panic starts to seize his chest a little as Dean hurries back into the crowd of people trying to see if there is some other route Sam could have taken.

He doesn't see a damn thing for a long time, until he's almost back to the damn girly shop, that's when he sees it. Just off to the left there is a small curve in the sidewalk. If you weren't following everyone else, or watching where you were going, the sidewalk itself would lead you right back there, the way it curves.

Pushing through people, Dean emerges on the other side of the flow of human traffic in what is really no more than an alleyway.

Jade eyes dart around, taking in everything, and that's when he sees it. The small splatter of red on the snow.

Walking over to it, Dean happens to glance up into one of the trash bins. 

Sam's jacket is stuffed inside.

Reaching up and in Dean pulls the jacket out, feeling the inside, cold. No longer warm from Sam's body heat.

Turning on his heel Dean swings around, eyes wide looking for his brother. "Sam?" Dean calls out, "Sammy!?" Still nothing, just the distant sound of a church bell ringing in the cold winter wind, "SAM!!!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_**"...All of my memories keep you near, your silent whispers, silent tears- I hope there is a way to give me a sign you're okay..." ~ Within Temptation** _

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

****  
  
_"I still recall the taste of my tears. Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears. My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore. Scraping through my head till I don't want to sleep anymore. Come on tell me. Make this all go away.You make this all go away. I'm down to just one thing. And I'm starting to scare myself. Make this all go away. You make this all go way. I just want something. I just want something I can never have.You always were the one to show me how. Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now. This is slowly take me apart. Grey would be the color if I had a heart..." ~ Nine Inch Nails_  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean's panic had started to turn into mind numbing hysteria by the time he made it back to the Impala hours later. He had went into every store asking about Sam, if they had seen him or anyone with him. 

Had they seen anything out the windows? 

He had shown a picture of Sam, that he carried in his wallet. But everywhere he went the answer was the same, no one had seen him, as if the earth had simply swallowed his brother whole. 

He'd searched the area for tire tracks, but there were none, not that he should have been surprised, cars we not allowed up into this area of town, which was why they had needed to park the Impala and walk to begin with.

Following footprints in the snow had led him only in circles with the wind and new dusting of the white flakes that were falling from the sky.

Dean fumbled with the keys, his hands nearly too numb to feel or grasp the cold metal in his hands, but finally, he managed to get the car door open and slid behind the wheel.

He sat there for a long moment staring straight ahead, reluctant to leave for fear he had missed something.

Maybe Sam would show up.... if he did and Dean was gone...

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dean reached forward and inserted the key into the ignition, pulling his legs in and closing the car door. 

The engine roared to life, just like it always did, just like as if everything was okay, as if his world wasn't slowly falling apart around him.

Some odd part of himself wanted to be pissed at the car that it wasn't mourning the fact that Sam was gone too, but reality, the ability to know that hunks of metal and grease didn't have the ability to understand such things won out. 

Dean threw the car in reverse and backed slowly out of the parking spot and headed for the motel, Sam's jacket, laying on the front seat beside him.

*

Dean sat at the small table in the motel room, Sam's laptop open and on, his jacket laid across the table beside him, one hand resting on it as he held his cell to his ear with the other, waiting for the call to be picked up.

"Yeah?" came the answer on the other end.

Dean's eyes widened slightly as he licked his lips, "Elle? It's Dean. I can't find Sam." he blurted out.

"What? Whoa! Maybe you better slow down, punkin', start at the beginning." she told him, and Dean could almost see the frown creasing her brow.

Dean shook his head as his hand on Sam's jacket bunched the material in his fist. "I don't have time to explain it all, Ellen. I-" he huffed, "I LOST SAM!" he nearly yelled the last bit into the cell, before scoffing at himself, "We were, we were walking, heading to a case at some damn church, I dunno, doesn't matter. Sam disappeared. I can't find him, Ellen, I've looked everywhere!"

"Well, calm down. Maybe he just went somewhere, you know your brother, maybe he -" she started, only to have Dean interrupt her.

"NO!" he barked the word out into the phone.

Silence greeted him.

Dean sighed, twisting his hand in Sam's jacket. "There was blood in an alleyway... I found Sam's jacket there. Ellen it's fuckin' eight below here!" 

"Alright, hun, alright. What do you need from me. Anything you want, you got it." Ellen told him.

Dean sighed and licked his lips, "Get, get ahold of every hunter you know, get 'em lookin' for Sam. I don't care what you gotta tell 'em, Ellen, just make 'em listen!" Dean told her through gritted teeth.

"Good as done. You can count on it, hun. You - you try to calm down a little. We'll find him, Dean." she told him softly.

"Yeah..." Dean muttered, "Uh, thanks, Ellen." 

Dean pulled the cell from his ear and hit the END button, scrolling down to a new name and pushing, SEND.

The call picked up on the second ring. "Dean?"

Dean licked his lips, his hand clenching and unclenching the material of Sam's jacket, "Bobby. It's Dean, I lost Sam."

"What the hell are you goin' on about?" Bobby asked him and Dean could see the annoyed look on the elder hunters face, even though he knew it was more out of concern that actual annoyance, even without being in the room with him.

Dean sighed, picking at a stray thread on Sam's jacket as he nodded. "Yeah, Bobby. Sam up and disappeared on me, I've been lookin' but..." 

"You damn idjits," Bobby grumbled half under his breath though Dean still heard. 

"I'll get on the horn, ask around, get some hunters talkin', lookin'," Bobby offered.

Dean nodded, "Thanks, Bobby." Dean told him softly, fighting back emotions.

"Yeah.... you, uh, you take care of yerself, Dean." Bobby told him.

Dean didn't answer, only pulled the cell from his ear, flipping it closed.

*

**_"Hush now don't you cry, wipe away the tear drop from your eye. You're lying safe in bed. It was all a bad dream spinning in your head. Your mind tricked you to feel the pain, of someone close to you leaving the game.... of life." ~ Queensryque_ **

Dean had called everyone he knew to call, had searched and searched on the computer for anything about kidnappers in the area, others who had disappeared. 

Something happening under similar circumstances, something, anything, but he continued to come up with a big fat zero.

It was sometime around noon the next day, that Dean fell asleep in exhaustion sitting in the same place, at the table, before Sam's laptop, the screen still on the last story he had read, his hand still on Sam's jacket, head tilted back, lips parted, soft snores leaving him. The alarm clock radio that he had turned on to drown out the utter and complete silence, still playing softly in the background.

Dean had muttered about how it was DJ's seemed to know when your life was fucked to hell and would play every goddamn sad song they had just to twist the knife a little more. He wasn't totally convinced that every DJ on the planet wasn't a witch, but that was a hunt left for another day, another time.

*

As dark lashes fluttered over bruised cheeks, a few things became glaringly clear to Sam.

One, he had a helluva headache.

Two, he was in a pitch black room, he couldn't see a damn thing.

Three, he was naked.

And for, as he tried to move, he found that his wrists were bound above his head.

Swallowing hard, he rolled his head, blinking into the utter darkness, trying as hard as he could to make out something, anything that would tell him where he was.

One thing was for sure, it was fuckin' cold as hell.

He hadn't noticed right off, but his teeth were chattering.

Suddenly a bright light flashed on overhead, blinding him in it's brilliance compared to the utter blackness of a few moments ago.

Sam turned his head to the side, eyes squeezed closed, body shaking with cold.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, the sound of footfalls, many of them, coming closer.

Turning his head, he blinked up at the men, his vision bleary at best.

Sam's lips parted though they trembled with the cold, "What," his voice was hoarse, raw, quiet, "What do you want? Where am I?"

One of the men, older with gray scruff on his face, a camouflage baseball cap on his head, chuckled. Sam could see he was missing teeth as he laughed, turning his head to look at one of the others.

Taller man, fat, his head bald, a mean look to his face, his attention way too focused on Sam for Sam's liking.

Sam shifted as much as possible as he shook his head, "Let me go, my brother-"

"Brother? Pretty boy has a brother!" the older one laughed as he reached out running the back of dirty fingers down Sam's cheek.

Sam turned his head, jerking away from the touch.

"Don't... don't touch me!" Sam told him between clenched teeth.

The old guy nodded, "Oh we're gonna do more 'an touch ya, boy." 

Sam clenched his jaw, glaring up at the man.

"Zen!" the old guy called out.

One of the other men behind the two closest to Sam stepped forward, "Yeah, boss?"

The old guy never took his eyes off Sam as he answered, "Why don' ya give 'er guest here his drink."

The other man, skinny, with greasy hair and no teeth, smiled and nodded vigorously.

Sam swallowed hard, looking from one to the other, a cold fear blossoming in his chest.

Sam watched the skinny man hurry off, before his attention returned to the one older man as his hand ran down Sam's chest slowly.

Sam sucked in a breath as if to pull his body as far in against the small narrow bed he was laying on and away from the touch as he could. "Don't." Sam bit out.

The chains securing Sam's wrists jingled in the silence that followed.

The skinny one came back with a pint jar of liquid, climbing onto the cot he straddled Sam's chest.

Sam tried to pull away, pull up, shrink down, but hands were at his feet in an instant holding him still.

More hands, other hands were at his head, tilting it back.

Sam's eyes widened as he tried to thrash his head, to get away, but his mouth was pried open, his head held still, and the burning liquid poured down his throat.

He tried not to swallow it, chocked and sputtered, but it went down, lots of it, much to Sam's horror. 

He tried to scream, to yell 'no' to fight, but hands, so many hands and the chains. 

When the jar was empty, the skinny one moved off. "It'll jus' take a second." he heard the guy say.

He didn't know what that meant, but he could guess as the world seemed to grow fuzzier, tilt and spin. 

Sam could have sworn he felt his eyes cross.

His heart hammered in his chest, even as it felt as though it dropped several times, like he and Dean had went on the Tilt -A - Whirl one too many times.

Sam's lips parted, he tried to ask what it was, what they had given him, but the sounds that came out, even he couldn't recognise as words.

His head rolled on the cot, body going lax.

"Pick 'em up." the old guy said, Sam heard that, but he couldn't seem to figure out what he was talking about.

If the guy meant HIM, he was in for a shock, because Sam knew he wasn't going to be able to stand.

*

The alarm radio had still been playing softly, but suddenly the volume started to rise, all on it's own as Dean continued to sleep.

**_"Life it seems will fade away, drifting further everyday. Getting lost within myself, nothing matters no one else..."_ **

*

Suddenly Sam found his legs picked up, pulled high as the old men knelt between his legs on the cot.

He frowned for a second, before it hit him, even through his drugged and dazed mind.

"No," Sam muttered, head rolling, "no, don't," his head rolled back. 

Hands, so many hands, so many holding him, and knees against his ribs so he couldn't lift up, try to buck away.

Sam tugged uselessly at the chains.

"No," a sob tore at his throat that he swallowed down, burned his esophagus and stomach, made his chest ache.

*

The radio continued to get louder, Dean mumbled in his sleep, telling Sam to turn the damn radio down.

*

Sam's eyes widened as he felt the guys cock at his ass.

"NO!" Sam yelled the word, clear as day.

*

The radio played at full volume, making Dean jump, startle awake.

**_"... I have lost the will to live, simply nothing more to give. There is nothing more for me, need the end to set me free."~ Metallica_ **

*

Sam screamed as the guys cock rammed into his ass.

Dean screamed as he sat up straight in the chair, pulling his gun, the radio suddenly exploding a second before Dean aimed and fired. 

_....the HELL?_

Dean sat staring at the smoking and smoldering radio in shocked silence.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

****  
  
_"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real - try to kill it all away, but I remember everything..." ~ Nine Inch Nails_  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam had been gone for four months.

Four months and not a goddamn trace of him. Nothing, no matter how hard Dean looked, searched. 

Other hunters, countless numbers were looking for Sam too. Ellen and Bobby had come through for him in spades, his cell rang constantly from Hunters in different states, different areas giving reports. 

One said that a guy resembling Sam's description might have been seen in the back of an unmarked van three states over and Dean had blazed a trail there only to come to a cold dead end. 

Nothing, the van found abandoned and empty, no trace of Sam, not even any blood. Nothing.

Dean wanted to believe it was a lead, even a small one, that there would be no other reason to ditch a van than to hide evidence of taking his brother.

Yeah, like people didn't go missing every goddamn day...

Dean sat in the Impala playing with the damn radio. There wasn't a fucking station that would come in, not a goddamn one.

_What the fuck!?_

It had been like that ever since the radio at the motel that blew up and Dean was starting to think that the Cosmos was trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he didn't know what.

Every goddamn tape he put in, the damn tape player decided to eat, like it was the fuckin' Hungry Hippo game or something'. 

Dean sighed and leaned back in the seat. "Sammy, where are you?" he muttered to the cool spring breeze.

*

Sam lay on the filthy cot in utter and total darkness, the chains on his wrists were different now, longer, he could touch his own face now, though when they came in, a machine would run and the chains pulled taunt.

Sam had clawed at his eyes that seemed to do him no good, clawed at them in the madness of utter darkness. 

That is, until they would come down, then the room would be flooded with light so bright it hurt, made his eyes water and sting.

They always came down, sometimes once, sometimes more, and they all used him, all ten.

Skinny as Sam had named him in his mind, was the worst.

He was worse because he was actually gentle, nearly kind, if your rapist could be considered kind.

Would wipe Sam's tears and shush him as he sobbed, smooth his oily, greasy hair back from his forehead and tell him how well he had done.

Sam would end up puking, nearly gagging on it, unable to roll to the side and spit it out of his mouth.

Skinny was the only one who fed him too, gave him water and mush.... Sam didn't know what the fuck it was, but it was hot and it was something, so he ate it like he was starving to death, because maybe he was.

He heard footfalls and tensed, his stomach flip flopping as he tried to scurry back on the cot. "No..." the word tumbled from Sam's lips, soft, broken, rough, his voice was fucked from too much screaming.

"Shshsh, s' jus me, pretty boy."

Skinny.

Sam sighed, relaxing just a little.

The beam of a flashlight hit him in the face and Sam squeezed his eyes closed, turning his head away.

"Boy, yer messin' yer eyes s'up bad." Skinny told him softly, reaching out to run a dirty thumb across Sam's eyelid.

Sam ducked his head, jerking away from the touch as he bit his lip, tears pricking his eyes at the gentle gesture.

"Don't." Sam mumbled.

Skinny pulled his hand back, frowning, "I brought ya some water. Ya wanna drink?"

Sam turned his head back, nodding mutely and allowed the man to tip the glass to his lips.

*  
[Month Six]

Dean parked the Impala in front of the Catholic church and stared up at it for a long moment before finally reaching for the door handle and slipping from behind the wheel.

Bobby had suggested he come here to Pastor Jim's friend Pastor Frank, though Dean had this nagging feeling it was more due to the fact that he had taken to talking to him self than actual information about finding Sam.

Walking up the steps that led to the high arched wooden doors, Dean felt about as out of place as a cat in water, but he had told Bobby he would go on the off chance that he was wrong and this guy, this Pastor might actually have some kind of news that might help him find Sam.

Twenty five minutes later, Dean was storming off toward the church doors wanting to get the hell outta there and away from the 'helpful' Pastor.

"Dean! Maybe... maybe you ought to just pray for Sam..." Pastor Frank called after him.

Dean froze mid step, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, face contorted in rage as he slowly turned around to face the Pastor.

**_"... I won't believe in heave or hell, no saints no sinners, no devil as well. No pearly gates, no thorny crown, you're always letting us humans down. The wars you bring, the babes you drown. Those lost at sea and never found. And it's the same the whole world 'round. The hurt I see helps to compound, That father, son and holy ghost is just somebody's unholy hoax. And if you're up there you'll perceive that my hearts here upon my sleeve. If there's one thing I don't believe in, it's you. Dear God." ~ XTC_ **

By the time Dean left the church, the minister had genuflected three times, two nuns had all but wept and Dean was sure that _if_ there was a God, he had just totally screwed himself out of ever going to heaven.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

It had been nine months and twenty - two hours since Sam had disappeared, yeah, Dean had it down to the hour, minutes and seconds if you really wanted him to get technical about it.

He sat now, pouring over maps, news paper clippings and old books about ever monster out there that might steal a person away in the middle of the goddamn night... in an alley way... just out of sight of holiday shoppers.... two weeks before fuckin' Christmas.

His second bottle of Jim Beam sat on the table in front of him.

Dean reached for the bottle of booze as he read a passage out of the book about gnomes and snickered. "S'at what got ya, Sammy?" he snickered again drunkenly as he looked at the book from the corner of his eye, tilting the bottle up to his lips, "gnomes." he mumbled before taking a long pull from the bottle.

Pulling the bottle from his lips, Dean frowned down at the book as if it were the books fault Sam was gone. "Or did you follow Alice down that damn rabbit hole!?" Dean grumbled angrily, scoffing as he kicked a booted foot out, making the chair next to his topple over, "Told you NOT to talk to little blond haired girl who run around with white rabbits with pocket watches screamin' about how they're late! Bitch is on crack, Sam!" he yelled at the emptiness of the room that surrounded him and seemed to suddenly start to close in around him.

Dean tried to pull to his feet and fell to the floor on his hands and knees. "Fuckin' floor moved!" he yelled, breaths harsh, tears stinging his eyes. 

"Saaaaam!!!!" Dean yelled, arms shaking as he knelt there on hands and knees, head bowed as his face started to crumble, but he bit it back, bit back the emotion, swallowed the sob that tore at his throat, even though it burned, made his chest ache.

*

Sam lay in the same place on the same dirty cot, now even more dirty, stained with urine and sweat, his skin and hair oily, dirty, he can smell his own filth and it gags him more often than not.

His eyes, Skinny has placed a blindfold over, due to Sam having clawed his eyelids open to the point that they he had them raw and bleeding, nearly torn away, his thick black lashes gone.

They've all just been there and gone and Sam is gagging and retching, tears streaming down his face. He thinks it was all ten of them, but he lost count somewhere after seven and tried to just think about riding in the Impala with the radio blaring, but it wasn't helping, no matter what he did, what he tried to think about, they were still there.

The cot dips slightly and Sam jerks away from who ever it is. No, not another one, no, leave me alone, please....

"Shshsh, it's me."

Skinny.

Sam bites his lip and jerks away from the touch to his bottom lip, too much like Dean, too familiar.

"Yer lips are bleedin' again." Skinny tells him.

Probably due to Sam biting into them, or that they are just that raw and cracked, Sam doesn't know, doesn't care which it is.

By now Sam knows that Skinny's real name is Zen, but for some reason, in his mind, he can't think of the man in any terms but 'Skinny'.

"Lemme take a look atcha eyes." Skinny tells him and Sam feels hands go to his head, reach back and untie the blind fold.

Sam's eyes are swollen, bloody, no lashes framing them, there is yellow puss filling the seams of his eyes where they are nearly closed shut.

"Can ya see anythin'?" Skinny asks him.

Sam shakes his head,'no'.

Skinny makes a disgusted sound. The room's bright over head light is on, there is no reason for Sam not to be able to see.

"A'right well," Skinny sighs, "lemme put this here bandanna back over yer eyes."

Sam doesn't move away as he does, doesn't flinch, just lets it happen, the warmth that the blindfold offers helps the horrible ache that has set into his eyes, so he doesn't mind it.

He feels skinny move, spreading his legs open wide and Sam shakes his head.

"No, please," he croaks out.

"Shshsh, we're gonna do somethin' different ta day." Skinny tells him, and Sam feels Skinny's hand wrap around his cock, slowly starting to pump him.

Sam shakes his head harder, "No! Don't, don't, don't..." Sam's words are slurred, hoarse and raw, barely able to be heard at all.

All the screaming Sam does has likely ruined his voice. Sam couldn't care less.

*

Dean slowly started to crawl across the floor and into the bathroom, making his way over to the toilet and pulls himself up so he can lean over the bowl.

Once there, Dean vomits, retches until his stomach is empty, his body is trembling with the force of his gagging and puking.

Finally Dean slumps and all but falls backward against the wall behind him.

His back leaning against the wall, Dean tilts his head back, glassy eyes look heavenward.

"SAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!!!"

*

Sam has tried, fought not to feel anything, fought his body and the reactions it has to stimuli, tears are cascading down his cheeks as he struggles against the chains, head thrashing.

Skinny's hand continues to pump his cock as he thrusts into his ass.

"Cum, pretty boy, it's okay. You deserve it, been so good," Skinny tells him.

Sam's face crumbles as a sob tears from his throat, because he knows that's exactly what he's about to do and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

Sam screams in anguish as the first jet of spunk leaves his cock.

*

It's been one year, one goddamn long year that Sam has been gone and Dean is a wreck. 

When he isn't drunk, he's talking to himself, when he isn't talking to himself or drunk he's bawling like a five year old girl. 

But the crying, that's only at nights when no one else is around and no one else can see. That's when Dean lets the pain come in and hit him full force, square in the chest like a mack fuckin' truck that takes his breath away for a few minutes, makes his eyes widen and sting, his throat burn.

He's drunk right now as he kneels before the magic circle he made, lighting the contents of the chalice that will summon, her.

Dean snorts and gives a shaky laugh, "I really must be fucked up Sam," he shakes his head, "I blame this in all on you, that I would ever call on her for anything!" Dean snaps at the empty room.

"Gee, thanks shortbus, but you know, phones work real well too." Ruby tells him, leaning against the door jam of the bathroom where she suddenly appeared.

Brushing her long blond hair back off her shoulder she steps forward and grabs Dean under his arms, hauls him to his feet, "You look like hell." 

Dean smirks, "You oughta know."

Ruby huffs as she lets Dean go, though she's not so sure he's going to remain standing long.

"Is this a social call or did you actually need something?" Ruby asks him, crossing her arms over her chest, cocky smirk drawn on her face, one blond brow quirked as she looks at Dean head to toe and back.

Dean grumbles about conceited ass demon witches under his breath and nods, "Yeah, I, uh, need you to find Sam for me," he mumbles out quickly, his hand wiping over his mouth as he says it.

Ruby leans forward slightly, mouth having fallen open, "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

Dean glares at her, "I said, I need you to find Sam for me, goddammit!" 

Ruby leans back and purses her lips, "Hmm... lemme see if I got this tight, you, Mister 'I hate witches' needs me, a witch, to find your brother for you?"

Dean grumbles and gives her a small nod, eyeing her, the unspoken question in his gaze of if she will do it plain to see, along with the hate that he had to ask at all.

Ten minutes later, they are standing at the table, Ruby has a map of the state before them, they've already done this little trick with the map of the U.S. and narrowed it down to a state, now they are narrowing it down more.

Ruby's eyes are demon black as she watches the map burn, a smirk pulling at her lips.

The map stops burning and Ruby pulls out her knife, stabs it down in the center of the small chunk of paper that is left, "Sam is here." she tells him, tearing her gaze away from the paper to smirk up at Dean, proud of herself.

Dean eyes the map, not looking at her as he nods his head, "Thanks, Ruby. Good work," he manages to mumble out and then he's gone, the door slamming closed behind him before Ruby can even open her mouth to say anything back.


	2. Chapter 2

As Dean slid behind the wheel of the Impala and closed the door behind himself he felt the bench seat dip, heard the passenger door close.

Looking over, Dean quirked a brow at Ruby, "Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" 

"With you," she shrugged a shoulder, "the way I see it, if it wasn't for me, you'd be back in that room drinkin' yourself to death with Sam only thirty minutes away and you not even knowing it." her features hardened, "You owe me, so do this to amuse me." she told him, a smirk pulling at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Goddamned witches!" Dean swore angrily as he threw the car into reverse and started to back out of the lot.

Dean saw Ruby lean forward and reach for the radio. "Don't," he snapped out, making her pause, look up at him.

He shook his head, "Doesn't work, no stations come in either. Been without fuckin' music for a goddamn year." he grumbled.

Ruby sat back, arms crossed over her chest frowning thoughtfully. "Stereo in my car works, we could go in it."

Dean shot her a dirty look that said they were not taking her car, then he frowned, "You have a car?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "No, Dean, I get around on a broomstick."

Dean shrugged a shoulder, "You might."

*

They'd parked the Impala a few feet away and walked together through the woods.

Ruby, much to Dean's dismay, was leading the way.

Drawing closer to the lone shack of a house, they both crouched, moving low in the darkness.

Ruby and Dean watched as a group of men stood outside around five parked trucks, all of which had seen better days. 

They were drinking and laughing and talking about 'pretty boy'.

Ruby's blue eyes went to Dean to see his reaction.

Dean had his jaw clenched so tight, his teeth were grinding together, the grip he had on the rifle so tight his knuckles were white.

"Calm down, Rambo, before you end up in there with him." Ruby whispered, perfect blond brow quirked.

"I'm gonna kill 'em, Ruby, every goddamn one of 'em." Dean told her through gritted teeth.

Ruby shrugged a shoulder, "Who am I to stop you?"

When Dean started to move forward, Ruby grabbed his arm, holding him back.

His gaze met her in the dark and she shook her head, "Not tonight. There will be another time for that." she told him.

Slowly Dean relaxed a little and nodded, pulling back into the shadows.

"Hey, Zen! We're goin' ta git more beers! You stay here with yer little girlfriend, keep an eye on 'im!" one of the men called out and Dean growled under his breath, muttering about how that asshole was going to end up with a rifle up his ass.

Ruby looked over at Dean and made a face, "Ouch," she muttered.

Dean shook his head, "Oh you don't know the half of it."

Zen (Skinny) made his way out the front door, a pan in his hand and an apron tied around his waist. 

"I gots ta feed the dogs, he'll be fine, it ain't like he's goin' any wheres." Zen told him, shaking his head before heading around to the back of the house.

Dean and Ruby watched the others climb into the trucks and tear out of the driveway.

Neither Dean nor Ruby moved.

Ruby nudged Dean's shoulder, nodding toward the house. "You goin'?"

Dean swallowed and nodded, "Yeah," he eyed her, "you?"

Ruby smiled and shook her head, "Nope, this is your party not mine. I just wanted to see the party favors." she smirked and pulled back further into the woods.

Dean looked back over his shoulder, watching her go.

_Sonuva…_

Returning his gaze to the house, he knew it was his best chance and went for it, running across the yard and to the front door, shot gun in hand, while 'Zen' was busy in the dog's shed.

Throwing the door open, Dean enters, shotgun at the ready.

Jade eyes dart about the dingy small house, the old furniture, the lamps and the china cabinet, all of it almost makes Dean start to laugh.

So fuckin' 'normal', it all looks so fuckin' 'normal'.

Old, sure, dirty, yeah, but there are belongings here, things that probably mean something to someone and it's nearly funny to think about. 

"I don't think they deserve to have it, do you Sammy?" Dean asks the empty air around him as he uses the shotgun like a baseball bat and starts to smash things, knock over lamps, break figurines and smash the china in the cabinet.

"Fuckin' sick ass, muther fuckers!" Dean yells as he smashes more things, trashes up the couch and throws cushions.

"Where is he!?" he screams to the empty air, "Where is my brother you goddamn sonsabitches?"

Then Dean hears a sound, something that doesn't make sense, it doesn't sound human but it’s unlike any creature he's ever heard before.

Maniacal laughter bubbles from his throat, "It's a fuckin' moose! The mating call of a fuckin' moose!" he half yells half laughs, crazed.

Making his way further into the house, the sound gets louder as he nears a closed and dead bolted door. 

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," he laughs, tears rolling down his face, mad tears, heartbroken tears, "they have a moose in their house!" he laughs more, falling up against one wall in hysterics.

_**"The light in the window is a crack in the sky. A stairway to darkness in the blink of an eye. A levee of tears to learn she'll never be coming back..."** _

The lyrics to the song start to play in Dean's head, as he pulls from the wall and makes his way further along toward the locked door, stepping through the kitchen.

It's the first music Dean could even think a note of in the last year.

"Just. like. Sam.," he grits out between clenched teeth as he beats the hell out of the pots and pans drying in a strainer, knocking them all over the floor, breaking dishes and nearly falling over in the process.

Reaching the door, Dean pulls the rifle up and aims, shooting the lock and busting it open wide.

"Let's see that moose..." Dean mumbles.

Opening the door, the sound is louder, but no more intelligible, there is a distinct odor of urine and fecal matter, of unbathed bodies and vomit.

_What the fuck?_

If he had to guess he would say it sounded like a moan, but it was too shallow, too sickly sounding to be human...

Taking two steps down the steps into the basement, his leather catches on something along the wall, making him pause. 

A light switch.

Flicking it on, Dean looks out into the basement.

Another door, another lock.

"What the fuck, Sam?" Dean calls out incredulously before aiming the rifle from where he is, blowing the lock open. 

The room door swings in a little and Dean's eyes widen.

He nearly falls down the remaining steps in his attempt to get to and inside the room as fast as he can.

**_"The man in the dark will bring another attack. Your momma told you that you're not supposed to talk to strangers. Look in the mirror tell me do you think your life's in danger here, ya... "_ **

*

Ruby is pacing, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze darting between the house and the dog shed.

"Come on dumbass, find him, come on..." she mutters half under her breath.

Suddenly the Impala's radio turns on, full blast. **_NO MORE TEARS ~ Ozzy Osbourne_**

Ruby smirks, "I had a dog and his name was BINGO."

Her attention is drawn to the shed as Zen starts to open the door, holding out a hand, she slams the door closed in his face with demon power, holding it there, as she backs up into the darkness.

*

"Sammy, oh my God, Sammy." Dean calls to him softly, rushing into the room and over to the cot, falling to his knees on the floor next to it.

He's kneeling in something, but at this point, Dean could care a less what the fuck it is..

He fights back the urge to vomit at the stench of his brother, as he reaches out to grab his face in his hands.

Sam screams and jerks away. "Don't touch me!"

"Sammy, it's me, it's Dean." Dean tells him, as he reaches up to remove the blindfold so Sam can see.

Dean's eyes widen as he sucks in a breath that he gags on.

Clenching his jaw, Dean nods, "I got ya, Sam, it's okay now. I got ya."

Sam's bottom lip quivers as he turns his head toward the sound of his brother's voice, "D- Dean?" he asks, voice soft, rough, raw, unsure.

"Yeah, baby, it's me." Dean tells him, nodding as he tries to figure out how to get the chains off Sam's wrists.

"Sonuva..." Dean growls angrily.

"Hold still, Sam." Dean tells him, pulling to his feet, and aiming the rifle at the wall.

"Don't leave me!" Sam begs, reaching out, blindly for Dean, tears falling from eyes once so beautiful and now so messed up Dean doesn't know if they'll ever be right again, if they'll heal, or what the fuck.

Dean's grim faced as he pulls the trigger, shooting the chains.

One.

Two.

Sam jumps and cowers at each shot, but at least now his wrists are free.

Dean tries to sit Sam up, but as he reaches under him, his hand hits sores that cover Sam's back.

Bed sores.

Again, Dean fights not to vomit, fights to hide the gagging sound from his brother.

"Come on, baby boy, I gotta get you outta here." Dean tells him, grabbing Sam despite the sores, even as Sam cries out in pain from being touched.

Dean can feel every bone in his brother's body, as he pulls him up to sitting. 

"Okay, I didn't think I was gonna be able to do this, but, I think I might," Dean nodded.

"Huh? Wha?" Sam shook his head, not under standing.

"It's okay, trust me, gonna get you outta here." Dean tells him, slipping a hand under his brothers knees and one around his shoulders.

_Jesus Christ…_

The lack of weight in his brother scares the hell out of Dean, but he tries not to think about it, just heads for the stairs and up, out the front goddamn door and into the woods.

Getting Sam to the Impala, who's radio is no longer blaring, Dean looks around.

"Shit! Fuckin' witches..." he mumbles

Sam's head has fallen back and Dean's not sure if he passed out from pain, is just relaxed now that he's out of that hell or what the hell, and part of him is afraid to look.

Three tries and he manages to get the back door open, shifting Sam inside, laying him down in the seat.

"Hold Still Sam, don't move." Dean tells him, and quickly disappears to run around to the trunk, popping it open and grabbing a blanket.

Slamming the trunk closed again, he returns to Sam, wrapping him up in the soft clean blanket, tucking it around and under him, as well as over, until he's all cocooned inside of it. 

Nodding to Sam, though Dean's not real sure if he can see him, or what the hell he can see, Dean cups his brother's cheek.

"Gonna be okay, Sam. Gonna be okay." he tells him softly, before drawing back and quickly closing the door, sliding behind the wheel and starting the car.

*

They're on the road, Dean only returned to the motel he was at long enough to grab the rest of his stuff, then took off again.

It was too damn close to those sick fuckers as far as Dean was concerned, but now, he doesn't know where to go, what to do, he's just driving aimlessly and now Sam is starting to make that moaning noise again, like a dying moose.

Flipping his cell open, Dean quickly scrolls and hits the **SEND** button.

"Bobby, I got him, I got Sam..." 

*** *** *** 

Dean pulled the Impala onto the long gravel drive leading up to the small cabin set deep in the woods, the place Bobby had given him directions to, a safe haven for him to bring Sam to.

Pulling the car to a stop, Dean was out the driver side door, almost before the engine had shut off, hurrying to open the back door.

Leaning in, Dean gently reached for Sam, who struggled slightly against him, until Dean whispered that it was okay, that it was just him, then Sam's body went lax in Dean's arms as he pulled him from the car.

Baby brother in his arms, Dean pulled to his full height, kicking the back door closed.

Turning toward the cabin, he nearly collided with Ellen and Bobby as they ran over to him.

"Dean? How is he? Lemme see!" Ellen told him.

"No!" Dean told her, pulling Sam closer, and turning slightly away from her as he pushed past their friends, "no body's touchin' him. Don't," Dean shook his head as he walked, "don't even look at him."

Ellen sighed a weary breath, glancing at Bobby, who shook his head, jaw clenched as he watched Dean carry his brother in through the front door of the cabin.

Walking in the front door, Dean made his way over to the couch, bending, he gently placed Sam down and started to pull away, only to have Sam suddenly grab at him.

"Don't leave me." Sam begged, panic in his quiet, raw voice.

 

Dean shook his head as he looked up into his brother's face. "Not leavin', Sammy. Not leavin'. Promise." Dean told him softly, before slowly, but more forcefully, pulling away to his full height.

Dean slipped off his leather, tossing it on a nearby chair as he kicked off his boots, his gaze locked on Sam's face as he did.

Even as the front door opened and closed and Dean knew Ellen and Bobby stood behind him, Dean didn't tear his gaze away from Sam.

Pulling off his over shirt, Dean let it fall to the floor, then pulled his tee up and over his head, next his hands went to his belt and the fastenings of his jeans, working quickly to shed his clothes.

"Dean, what are you -" Ellen started, but Dean interrupted.

"Sam needs a bath, he'll feel better after he gets clean, Elle." he told her with a nod, as if agreeing with himself.

Ellen frowned at Dean. Sure, Sam needed a bath, but hell if it was actually gonna make him _feel_ better...

"Dean, I don't think..." Ellen sighed, letting her sentence trail off as Bobby placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook his head gravely.

Undressed to his boxers, Dean started to lean down, only to catch sight of the stereo system out of the corner of his eye and quickly reach for it, turning the radio on, needing to drown out the feelings, the odd ass numbness from his system with something.

When the radio came on, not static, Dean froze for a breath, frowning, before shaking off the fact that now suddenly, the radio was working.

**_"We walk the narrow path, beneath the smoking skies, sometimes barely to the difference, between the darkness and light. Do we have faith, in what we believe? The trues test, is when we can not, when we can not see..." ~ Jane Siberry_ **

Leaning down, Dean scooped his brother back up into his arms and headed across the room, into the bathroom. 

"Gonna get you cleaned up, Sammy. 'Kay, bro? Gonna clean you all up." Dean told him softly as he walked.

Sam hid his face against Dean's neck, arms wrapped around him, fingertips with broken ragged nails digging into the tender flesh of Dean's shoulders. 

"Jus' hold me, Dean. Don't let go." Sam murmured softly a small soft sob tearing at his throat.

"I gotcha, Sam, I gotcha." Dean told him softly, stepping half into the shower, so he could turn on the water with Sam still in his arms.

Backing out once the water was running, Dean started to try standing Sam on his feet.

"I need you to stand for me, Sam. I'll help you, but I need you to try." Dean told him softly.

"No, don't wanna, jus'-jus'," Sam clung tighter onto Dean, even as Dean placed his feet on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around Sam, holding all of his brothers weight up.

Dean could tell, if he let go, even a little, Sam would fall flat on the floor.

With his arms wrapped tightly around Sam, Dean starts to pull the blanket loose, as it begins to unravel from around Sam... that's when all hell breaks loose.

Sam's body tenses, his fingertips digging hard into Dean's flesh, likely drawing blood, for someone so weak, he's got a helluva grip.

"No!" Sam shouts, jerking and twisting, trying to find the comfort and warmth of the blanket again.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," Dean tells him softly.

"No! No! Lemme go! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Sam screams, spits in Dean's face and struggles against him.

Dean's heart feels like there's a band wrapped around it and someone is squeezing the hell out of it, emotion burns in the back of his throat like acid, but he clenches his jaw, refuses to let it out, to acknowledge the pain and the heartbreak that bubbles just below the surface.

Dean clings to the shock that has set into his system, it's what is moving him, what has moved him, kept him upright and strong this long. He grits his teeth and tightens his hold on Sam, snagging the blanket away no matter that Sam is screaming and tears and running down his face.

Yeah, he's a fuckin' bastard, he knows that, he's a goddamn prick and he deserves Sam's hatred, but that isn't what matters now.

Dean has to do what he always has done, man up and take it, bury it deep inside and let Sam get this venom out of his system, if he wants to kick and scream and spit on Dean, Dean's not gonna fight it, but he will get in the goddamn shower and he will be taken care of. 

That Dean will see to, Sam can just add that to his reasons for hating him. Dean is fine with that being one of the reasons, because hell, he fucking knows that the other reasons are worse.

But again, Dean blocks those out, Swallows the poison of them down like a good soldier, like Daddy's boy is expected to.

"Sam," Dean grits out between clenched teeth, half carrying, half dragging him into the shower.

Under the water's spray, Sam relaxes a little, just a little.

His grip remains tight on Dean, but he has stopped struggling and squirming, stopped yelling, but the tears continue to fall and each one breaks Dean's heart a little more.

Dean starts to wash Sam's body quickly, the water falling, pooling beneath him nearly gray with dinginess and dirt, before it is sucked down the drain.

Sam's head falls back, like one of those new born baby's, his lips parted as a gut wrenching sob tears from his throat as they stand under the spray together, dropping the soap, Dean clings tighter, buries his face against Sam's neck.

"Sorry, so sorry, Sammy." Dean whispers brokenly against Sam's skin, hot tears stinging his eyes.

Sam's head falls forward as he slowly shakes it, "You dunno what they did," Sam cries and Dean squeezes his eyes closed, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks, dropping off the end of his nose onto his brother's flesh.

Sam starts to shake, almost uncontrollably and when Dean pulls his head back to look at his face, his teeth are clenched, tears streaming down his face a second before his lips part on a anguished cry and his legs buckle.

Dean drops with him, catching him, but letting them both ease down to kneel in the tub as the warm shower spray washes over them.

Dean readjusts his hold, grasping Sam's face in his hands and kisses his cheeks, tears falling from his own eyes, face crumbling as he lets the pain wash over him, the water that falls from the shower nozzle hiding his tears.

**_"...I hear pounding feet in the, in the streets below, and the, and the women crying and the, and the children know that there, that there's something wrong, and it's hard to believe that love will prevail. Oh it won't rain all the time.The sky won't fall forever. And though the night seems long, your tears won't fall forever..." ~ Jane Siberry_ **

Sam cries, wailing, the sound is so tortured that even as Dean is raining kisses over Sam's face; the tip of his nose, his cheeks, chin, forehead, temples, even his wounded and messy eyelids, because Dean doesn't care, if it's part of Sam he wants to have kissed it, kissed away the dirt and filth, kissed away the horror and the heartbreak, Dean is shaking, his heart pounding in his chest, eyes wide, distraught.

Tears steam down Dean's own face, mixing with his brothers.

"Shshsh, I know, Sammy, I know, baby." Dean whispers gently, moving his arms to wrap around him, holding him close, tight, impossibly tight, so tight that he might even break a rib, but Dean is mindless of that, all he can think about is protecting Sam, of how he fucked up, how he wasn't there, how he shouldn't have waited for him, should have went back as soon as Sam wasn't behind him.

"So Sorry, Sammy, I should have went back, I shouldn't have waited for you, shoulda held onto you, shoulda been there, shoulda done better, it's all my fault and I know it. I'm so sorry," Dean cries, pulling him in as close as he can.

Slippery skin against slippery skin, the water beating down against them both.

Dean slowly lays back in the tub taking Sam with him and Sam willingly goes, because he can smell Dean, and in that smell is safety, in that smell is protection and love, in that smell is home.

"I love you," Sam mutters against Dean's shoulder and Dean looses it, a rough heartbroken scream tears from his throat as he sobs openly, brokenly.

"I - love - you," Dean sucks in a ragged breath, "too."

Ellen and Bobby have heard Dean's scream and Bobby is hurrying toward the bathroom.

"Stay here," he tells Ellen.

"Like hell." she mutters back, dashing after him.

Bobby opens the bathroom door, he and Ellen peering inside.

Bobby turns to tell Ellen that maybe the boys need a blanket, but she's already been gone and got one and is back now, brushing past him and into the bathroom, opening the glass shower door and turning off the water, shaking out the blanket to cover them both.

Neither Dean nor Sam seem to even notice. 

Ellen takes a step back, sitting down on the closed toilet seat, nearly falling onto it as she does. 

Her own emotions have gone in to a form of shock, never having seen, or heard the boys like this before... so utterly broken.

And poor Sam...

She has a good look of his face now and she can't even imagine how that happened, his eyes...

Turning her head, her gaze meets Bobby's and she snorts softly, “You're slow,” she tells him with a nod, referring to the blanket.

Bobby gives her a look but doesn't argue the fact, hell, he's not even sure he's all there right now, so maybe he is slow.

Movement in the tub draws her attention, as Dean pulls the blanket up a little more, tucking it in around Sam's chin.

He pulls an arm out from under the blanket to wrap around Sam over it, pull him closer, so damn close it's hard to tell where one brother ends and the other begins, but it seems to make them both more content, so Ellen and Bobby keep their mouths shut.

**_"Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor, that leads your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need, I say love it is a flower, and you, it's only seed..."_ **

"Bobby," Ellen begins, her voice low, soft, "can you - can you wave my daughter in here?" she asks him without looking away from Sam and Dean.

Bobby silently does as she asks and again, without looking up, though her face looks older suddenly some how, the frown lines that crease her brow as she looks at the Winchester's, or maybe it's just the depth of emotion in her dark brown eyes, Ellen speaks to Jo as she comes to the bathroom door. "Go make the boys each a Hot Toddy, Joanna Beth," Ellen nods, "Go." her voice is distant, soft and vacant and it makes Jo do as her mother says without argument, even though she had just used her whole name, which Jo hates.

Sam took in a shaky breath through his mouth and sniffled, which was pretty well pointless, his nose was clogged as hell from all the crying, but Dean wasn't doing much better.

Lifting his head, Sam reached up, rubbing and clawing at his eyes.

Dean jerked as he quickly lifted a hand to pull Sam's away from his face, lacing their fingers together instead.

"Wan - wanna see you." Sam told him, bottom lip quivering.

Dean's own bottom lip quivered as he shook his head slowly, "No, baby, no. Just," he sniffled, sucking in a ragged breath through parted lips, "just leave your poor eyes alone." he told him, his free hand raising to cup the back of Sam's head.

His hair had yet to be washed, still oily and greasy, matted and tangled, the strands clinging to Dean's hand.

"Sam," Ellen began softly, "why don't you let me wash your hair, hun? Dean can hold you," she shook her head, "you don't have to move at all." she offered.

Sam's face slowly crumbled as he nodded, "I'm so dirty, so disgusting," he shook his head, then tried to push away from Dean, "GOD! Why are you touching me!? Don't touch me! You shouldn't touch me! I'm disgusting!" he shouted at Dean, shoving against him, as Dean held onto him tightly, shaking his head, tears falling from his eyes, running down his cheeks.

Dean shifted, turning them slightly so that Sam was laying more next to him, the side of the tub at his back. No where to go. He couldn't push away, couldn't leave Dean lost and abandoned with all these horrific feelings of guilt and heartbreak coursing through him.

Yeah, it was a little selfish, but Dean couldn't help it. Sam needed him too, whether he knew it or not.

Dean's hands went to Sam's face, cupping his cheeks as he leaned his head in, brushing his lips over Sam's, across his cheeks, his eyes. "No, baby, you're not disgusting. So not disgusting. You're beautiful, always been beautiful, always will be."

Sam's face twisted into a broken sneer, his hands reaching blindly for Dean, feeling roughly over his face, sliding down to rest on his shoulders.

"No," Sam told him, jaw set at that stubborn angel, the site of which tore at Dean's heart. 

Sam's lips trembled, "No," he shook his head just slightly, "I'm not beautiful, not anymore."

"Yes, yes you are." Dean argued softly.

"THEY RAPED ME EVERY DAY! I puked and pissed and... and... And I just had to lay there in it," Sam yelled at Dean, at the top of his lungs, the heels of his hands shoving and pushing at him, hitting Dean's chest and face, "Did you hear me!?" Sam ground out between clenched teeth.

At Sam's screamed words, Dean had started to cry, sobs wracking his frame. 

He had known it, but to hear Sam, to see the look of utter brokenness and self hatred, self loathing from it as he told him, screamed it at him, Dean couldn't take it.

It was why Dean wasn't moving, why he wasn't reacting in a way that Sam could tell, unlike Ellen who had gasped and Bobby who had sworn venomously under his breath.

"Yeah," Dean breathed out the word brokenly, "I heard ya, Sammy. I know."

**_"...It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance. It's the one who won't be taken, who can not seem to give and the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live..."_ **

Sam choked out a sob, "Then how," he shook his head, "how can you find this beautiful?" he asked pulling a shaking hand back to lay against his own chest.

Dean shook his head, "Cause to me you are."

**_"...And the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long. And you feel that love is only for the lucky and the strong. Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow, lies a seed that with the sun's love, in the Spring becomes a rose." ~ Leanne Rhimes_ **

Sam buried his face against Dean's neck, weeping softly, "Sometimes it was more than once a day," he choked out, "sometimes they would come back and it would start all over again."

A whimper tore from Dean's throat as he pulled Sam in closer, his face crumbling as he cried, dipping his head to press his lips against the crown of Sam's head, against his dirty hair.

"Shshsh, don't think about it." Dean told him softly, "You're safe now, I gotcha. Never gonna let you go, baby boy. Not ever." he kissed Sam's head, turning his own to lay his cheek against it. 

Ellen reached a hand out, laying it on Dean's head, her thumb smoothing over his forehead, in an attempt to comfort.

Dean's bloodshot, tear- filled, swollen jade orbs flickered up to meet her own teary brown ones before he slowly closed his eyes.

*

Jo hurried into the bathroom, two tall glass mugs in hand. "I got the - -" her sentence died away seeing the tears slip down her mother's face, Bobby, blinking rapidly as he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.

"Uh, I'll just," she licked her lips and took a step into the bathroom, placing the glass mugs on the counter.

Ellen nodded, "Thanks, darlin'," she whispered softly.

Jo nodded, lips pressed together as she looked from her mom to the men in the tub, covered with a blanket and back to her mom, "I'll, uh, just be out here." she told her softly, stepping quietly back out of the room.

**_"This time, this place. Misused, mistakes. Too long, too late. Who was I to make you wait? Just one chance, just one breath, just in case there's just one left. 'Cause you know, you know, you know!! I love you, I have loved you all along, and I miss you, been far away for far too long. I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go!! Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore..." ~ Nickelback_ **

"Wa - wash my hair," Sam muttered softly against Dean's neck, "get their filth off me... please."

Dean opened his eyes and looked up at Ellen, nodded and adjusted his arms around Sam.

Ellen turned around to ask Bobby to get her a pitcher, but he was gone, only to step back in with a bottle of pills in his hand and Jo carrying the pitcher at his side.

"Now who's slow?" Bobby asked her.

Ellen huffed and reached for the pitcher, then turned her attention back to Dean and Sam.

"Sam, honey, Bobby brought you some antibiotics, you need to take one hun, she held her hand out for Bobby to set the bottle in it without looking back at him.

"Can you do that for me?" Ellen asked him, "Will you take the pill? Then we can get your hair washed."

Sam's face started to crumble again, "Bobby?"

"Shshsh, s'okay Sam, s'okay, Bobby and Ellen have been here the whole time," Dean assures him, running his hand up and down Sam's blanket covered back soothingly.

The bathroom was silent for a long while save for Sam's quiet tears and sniffles, no one moved or spoke, Dean continuing to run his hand over Sam's back soothingly.

"Sam," Ellen's voice broke the silence as she opened the pill bottle and dumped one out in her hand, "please take this. I'm worried about your face, sweetie, come on." she coaxed.

"Ellen," there was a hint of warning in Dean's voice as he spoke.

Ellen's gaze flickered up to Dean's chocolate clashing with emerald before she slowly shook her head, "You're not the only one who cares about him, Dean. We love him too." Ellen told him before tearing her gaze away and looking back at Sam's face.

Sam lifted his head more, chest rising off Dean as he used a hand to hold himself up.

His lips parted as he held his mouth slightly open for the pill.

Ellen slid from the closed toilet seat to kneel on the floor beside the tub, one hand going to the back of Sam's head, running slowly over his dirty hair as she brought the pill around in front of him. 

"Here ya go." She told him, "lift your hand, come on, Sam, you put it in your mouth, not me." Ellen told him.

Sam slowly moved, his hand trembling as he raised it.

Ellen dropped the pill in his hand, offering a small smile that Sam couldn't see.

"Bo-" Ellen began as she turned her upper body toward him, only to stop as Bobby handed her the glass mug without her having to ask.

Ellen gave him a small nod, as she took the mug, then turned back to Sam who was clumsily stuffing the pill into his mouth with the flat of his palm, gripping it with his teeth.

"Here, hun, it's a Toddy, Jo made it for ya, so sip, sip slow." Ellen told him, bringing the mug up to Sam's lips. 

Dean watched everything, every movement, every touch to his baby brother as if he were going to need to tell it later in fine detail, hunter instincts on full alert, ready and waiting for the first wrong move, trusting no one to touch Sam, not even friends, his body ridged, jaw clenched, muscle twitching.

As Ellen pulled back and Sam sighed softly, lowering his head and chest back down onto Dean, his shoulder, Dean relax slightly, reaching a hand up to press against the side of Sam's head, holding him against him.

"Okay," Ellen sighed wearily, "Ready for that hair washin'?" she asked Sam.

Sam kept his face buried against Dean's flesh; his neck, his chest, his shoulder, anywhere so that no one would see him as Ellen washed his hair.

Dean could feel Sam's open mouth gasps and his tears against his skin and all he could do was hold tighter, whisper the same things he had already said.

With the last pour of warm water over Sam's head, Ellen's free hand trying to shield his eyes from the soap as she poured it, Sam gulped in breaths and nodded vigorously, "S' good enough, no more, stop, I can't..."

Dean stiffened, holding him closer, he had felt Sam's heart beating hard in his chest, against the skin of his own, but Sam hadn't moved a muscle until then, now he raised a hand to fend off more water, more touching.

"Okay, Sam, okay, I'm done anyway, it's okay." Ellen told him, her hands going to his hair to push it back from his face.

Hands, too many hands. How many? Sam couldn't count them, didn't care, there were just too many, too many again!

Sam's jaw clenched, teeth gritting together, before he half rolled, arm swinging out to beat back Ellen's hands.

"Don't touch me!!!" Sam yelled through gritted teeth.

Ellen frowned, concerned, confused, "Sam?"

Sam gasped in breaths, choked on the air and gagged as he rolled, half laying on top of Dean, arms flailing.

"No! No goddamn you! Damn you all! Don't fuckin' touch me!" Sam yelled, panicked, hysterical.

Dean tried to sit up, grab Sam, hold him tighter, whisper to him that it was okay, it was just him and Ellen.

"Deeeean!!!!" Sam screamed his name, tears falling, sob tearing at his throat.

Dean held him tight around the waist, his chin on Sam's shoulder, "I'm here, baby, right here. Not goin' anywhere," he told him softly, "you're safe, you're safe. I swear."

Sam relaxed against his brother, hands going to Dean's at his waist, holding tight, so tight Sam's knuckles started to turn white.

"Don't let go." Sam told him softly.

Dean lowered his head, lips against Sam's shoulder, "Not ever, Sammy, promise."

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

**_"Oh, why you look so sad? Tears are in your eyes. Come on and talk to me now. Don't be ashamed to cry. Let me see you through, cause I've seen the dark side too. When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do. Nothing you confess could make me love you less. I'll stand by you..." ~The Pretenders_ **

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean had gotten Sam out of the tub, the shower and carried him into one of the bedrooms in the small cabin, gently placing him down on the bed.

Dean had noticed that someone, Jo, Bobby, maybe Ellen at some point, he wasn't sure when, had brought in their duffels. 

As soon as he had Sam laying down on the bed, pulled away to get him clothes.

"D - Dean!" Sam called out as soon as he was no longer touching Dean, hand reaching blinding, as he pushed up onto his elbow on the bed.

"Shshsh, I'm right here, right here, just gettin' ya some clothes, Sammy. Be right there." Dean told him, watching as Sam slowly sank back down against the over stuffed, fluffy pillows. 

As quickly as he could, Dean yanked sweats and one of Sam's hoodies out of the duffel along with boxers and socks.

Something just told Dean that maybe Sam would be happier if he was wearing as many layers as possible.

He was going with that theory anyway.

Dean quickly redressed himself in sweats as well, though he didn't bother with a shirt or socks, wanting to get back to Sam as fast as possible.

Walking back over to the bed, Dean sat down on the side of it and started to dress Sam. The sweatpants and hoodie that once fit Sam so well, loose but well, now hung on him like they had belonged to someone else, nearly swallowing him up. 

When Dean started to pull Sam's socks on, he came close to loosing it and bawling like a little girl right there. 

Looking at his brother's feet, the socks; half on, half off, like they use to be when they were kids and Sam would crawl into his bed after a nightmare twisted Dean's heart inside his chest.

He finished getting Sam dressed with shaky hands, gulping in silent breaths of air. 

Gently as he could, Dean turned Sam to lay on his side, piling pillows against his back so he wouldn't roll over onto the bed sores before moving, carefully as he could to not jostle him, onto the bed next to his brother and wrapped his arms around him, holding him.

Sam seemed to relax into his embrace, his breaths even and slower though Dean couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep or not.

Ellen came in with their drinks and Dean gratefully took his, downing it in just a few gulps, though Sam's he had her place on the nightstand.

With a sigh as she nervously rubbing her hands up and down her arms, Ellen walked back out of the room, leaving the boys alone together.

Dean wasn't sure how long they laid there like that, it must have been a while because when he actually took note of his surroundings again, the sun was spilling in through the lone window in the room.

Listening, Dean heard the front door open and close, Bobby and Ellen's hushed voices talking, maybe arguing, he wasn't sure.

Ellen stood at the bedroom doorway, her dark gaze darting between himself and Sam.

"What is it, Elle?" Dean asked her softly.

She stepped further into the room and sat down on his side of the bed, near his feet.

That's when Dean noticed the medicine bottle in her hand, it looked like nose spray, or maybe eye drops.

"Dean, Bobby and I have been talkin'," she glanced over at Sam and shook her head before her gaze settled on Dean's face once more.

"Sam's eyes, hun," she explained, "they worry me."

Dean slowly turned his head to look at his brother's face, yellow crust lined the slit where long dark lashes once grew to dust over high cheek bones when his eyes were closed like they were now, only now, they were closed due to being so swollen and inflamed, the lids an angry shade of dark red.

Dean swallowed hard and nodded, before tearing his gaze away and looking back at Ellen.

"I - I made Bobby go get this," she held the bottle up, "it's saline solution and an antibiotic, something to numb them too," she shook her head, "they gotta hurt, Dean."

Dean sighed and licked his lips, "Yeah, okay, but, lemme tell him, wake him, get him to say yes." he told her.

Ellen nodded as she pulled to her feet, "Of course, hun."

Dean scooted closer to Sam, pulled him in against him more and Sam moaned softly, nuzzled back and sighed in his sleep.

"Sammy?" Dean called to him softly, raising a hand to cup the side of his face.

Sam jerked and gasped, hands flailing, one shoving at Dean, pushing him away, the other swinging at the air.

"No! No, lemme alone! Get away from me!" Sam shouted.

"Sammy, Sam, it's me," Dean told him, holding tighter, even as he was hit and kicked under the blankets. "it's Dean. You're alright." 

Sam let out a breath, relaxing against him. "Dean?"

"Yeah, baby, it's me. It's okay."

Sam sighed and nodded, nuzzling his face against Dean's neck. "Was 'sleep." Sam murmured softly.

Dean sighed as he nodded, "Yeah, I know, baby, I know. I didn't mean to wake you, but," Dean's gaze slid to Ellen as he bit his lip, hating that he was going to suggest something that might upset Sam, but understanding that he needed to be tended to.

"Ellen and Bobby, they," he sighed, "they got some drops for your eyes." Dean told him, "Can they, can we put them in? Is it okay? They look so bad, baby." Dean explained softly.

Sam bit his lip as his chin quivered for a few moments before he nodded, "M'kay."

"Okay?" Dean asked, running the back of his fingers down Sam's cheek.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, okay."

Dean turned his head and looked over at Ellen, just as Bobby came to the open door.

"Well, what'd he say?" Bobby asked.

"He'll let us." Ellen answered, stepping forward to take a seat on Sam's side of the bed at his knees, where his legs were bent, offering a bit of open space.

"Sam?" Ellen said his name as she reached out to smooth his hair back from his forehead, her movements slow, unrushed, letting him get use to her being there.

Sam offered a small forced smile, "Ellen."

Ellen nodded, smiling back, before she glanced at Dean who was watching her as if she might suddenly pull out a knife and stab Sam or something.

Clearing her throat, she looked back at Sam's face, "Need you to kinda roll onto your back for a second, Bobby can place a towel under your head so the bed doesn't get wet and then I can put some of these drops on and in your eyes, okay?"

Sam blew out a breath, biting his lip as he nodded, "M'kay."

Between the three of them, they got Sam situated onto his back, moving the pillows out of the way and Bobby placed a towel under Sam's head as Dean lifted it up.

Sam had grabbed onto Dean, lips parted in panic, but as Dean continued to speak softly to him, it seemed to help, that and they all tried not to touch him at the same time unless absolutely necessary.

Kneeling one leg on the bed beside Sam, Ellen bent over him with the bottle as Dean watched her closely. 

"Okay, Sam, hold still for me." Ellen told her.

He started out fine, as the medication was poured over the lids and outside of his eyes, it was only when Ellen tried to pry one open that flashes of memory came rushing back.

_Hands were at his head, tilting it back, his mouth was pried open, his head held still, and the burning liquid poured down his throat._

Sam started to struggle, his hands raising to grip Ellen's wrists. "No," the word was weak and tore from his throat, even as his head thrashed.

Dean grabbed Sam's hands, laced their fingers together, speaking softly to him. 

"S' okay, Sammy. S' okay."

Sam seemed to start to relax, though his breaths were still coming faster a small whimper escaping him, head thrashing.

"Sam hold your head still for Ellen, come on." Dean coaxed softly, nuzzling Sam's neck.

_He tried not to swallow it, chocked and sputtered, but it went down, lots of it, much to Sam's horror._

Bobby stepped up, holding Sam's head firmly but gently, "Just do it, Ellen!" he ground out, "Do it and get it over with!"

Ellen pried Sam's eyes open, first one then the other, squeezing in the medication. 

_He tried to scream, to yell 'no' to fight, but hands, so many hands and the chains. "It'll jus' take a second." Skinny. "Pick 'em up." The old guy._

Sam thrashed, twisted his body, fought back with all of his strength, face crumbling before the scream tore from his lips.

"Daaaaaaaaaad, help me!!!!!!!!!!" 

*

Sam's scream had them all freezing, eyes wide.

Bobby seemed to be the first to come out of it.

"Ellen," Bobby growled out her name, the warning in it clear.

Ellen tore her gaze from Sam's face, licked her lips and looked at Bobby, nodded. "Let - let him go, I'm done."

Bobby did as she said, releasing Sam, at the same time that Dean seemed to finally snap his mouth closed and unlace his fingers from Sam's, sliding his hands away, pulling from the bed and to his feet.

Sam rolled onto his side, sobbing as he reached out blindly for Dean who was no longer there.

"Dean?" Sam called to him, softly, brokenly through his sobs, but Dean wasn't listening as he walked almost angrily out of the room.

Bobby, clenched his jaw as he watched Dean just leave his brother there when he needed him most.

"Damn that stupid, idjit." Bobby grumbled, turning to follow Dean out.

Ellen went to Sam, sitting on the side of the bed, reaching out to smooth his hair back and offer soft words of comfort.

Dean stormed out the front door, slamming it closed behind him, Bobby hot on his heels.

**_"See the stone set in your eyes. See the thorn twist in your side. I wait for you. Sleight of hand and twist of fate, On a bed of nails she makes me wait. And I wait without you. With or without you, with or without you. Through the storm we reach the shore, You give it all but I want more. And I'm waiting for you. With or without you, with or without you. I can't live. With or without you....~ U2_ **

"Dean Winchester, you get your ass back here!" Bobby yells, voice clipped like a drill sergeant from the small porch, just as Dean is starting to stalk across the lawn toward the Impala.

Dean freezes and turns, muscle in his jaw twitching.

"Not a good time, Bobby." Dean tells him stiffly.

Bobby makes it across the porch, crossing the space separating them faster than Dean has ever remembered seeing the old man move.

"Not a good time!? Not a good time!? Dean you don't have any fucking idea what it isn't a good time for or you wouldn't be out here acting like some sissy girl who just got your feelin's hurt! Suck it up, buddy and get yer ass back in there and be with that boy! Sam needs you, goddammit!" Bobby yells into his face, standing toe to toe with him.

"He called for our Dad, Bobby, not me, for him." Dean gave a nod, "cause he knows that I fucked up. Knows he ain't safe with me. I let him down, and now -"

Bobby interrupts Dean's bullshit to yell just that.

"BULLSHIT! Stop feelin' sorry fer yerself, and start feelin' for that brother of yours! Stop thinkin' about yer own ass for once!" Bobby screams at him.

The muscle twitches in Dean's jaw, "I have never NOT thought about Sam!"

Bobby eyes him, scoffing and looking down his nose at him, "Prove it."

With that Bobby turns and heads back toward the cabin, slamming the door as he enters.

Dean grits his teeth, hands curling and uncurling into fists at his sides, as he walks back toward the cabin, then stops at the bottom of the porch steps, tears stinging his eyes.

Jade orbs dart about, as he gulps in air, chest rising and falling harsh with each one, before he reaches down with a loud angry cry tearing from his throat and grabs a thick stick from the ground and begins to beat angrily at the wind chimes hanging from the porch.

There is no rhyme or reason to it, the strings of the chimes twist and turn, the melody they make now off key and sounding as broken as his brother's voice.

"That's great short bus, those wind chimes will _never_ touch Sam again."

Dean throws the stick across the yard in anger, tears are streaming down his face as he glares at Ruby who is standing there, one hip jutted out, her arms crossed over her chest, head cocked to one side.

"Go to hell." Dean tells her, voice soft, torn from his throat, broken.

Ruby smirks and straightens, "Been there," she wrinkles her nose, letting her arms drop as she flings back a lock of blond hair. "didn't like it much."

"What do you want, Ruby!?" Dean yells at her between clenched teeth.

She smirks and steps forward, stepping close enough to look into his tortured jade orbs, "I want you to fight, I want you to get this out, to get the revenge you're hungry for," she tilted her head to the side, "And I want to be the little fallen angel on your shoulder when you do it."

**_"Sparkling angel, I believed, you were my savior in my time of need. Blinded by faith, I couldn't hear All the whispers, the warnings so clear. I see the angels, I'll lead them to your door. There's no escape now, no mercy no more. No remorse 'cause I still remember the smile when you tore me apart..." ~ Within Temptation_ **

Dean stared hard into her blue eyes for a long moment, her lips slowly curling into an evil smile as her eyes narrowed.

"What are ya gonna do, Dean?" she asked him, glancing behind him toward the door, "Your brother sat in a basement for an entire year, slowly rotting away," she leaned in close, "What did you do to stop it?" she asked, voice soft, taunting.

Dean screamed in rage as he attacked her, fists swinging in anger as she backed up, easily knocking each blow away

"Come on! You're better than this! Hurt me!" Ruby yelled at him as they now stood in the center of the yard.

Dean punched and kicked, each time Ruby blocked, then attacked back, knocking Dean to the ground.

"Pathetic! Get up! Fight! Show me!" She told him, pulling to her feet and waving both hands at him.

"I fucked your brother! I took from him!" she yelled, egging him on and smiling as he started to do better, even through the pain of each punch, each kick that she was now unable to block.

Separated again, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"And he _liked_ it." she hissed, wanting to get him beyond angry.

It worked, Dean attacked, hard and with all his might.

Her blood shot out from her nose and lip, though she managed to get a few good hits of her own in.

"Keep it coming!" she shook her head, "they aren't going to let up! Fighting for their lives, Dean!" she told him. "Give it to me!" she yelled angrily.

It wasn't long and Dean had her on the ground, pinned under him, hands at her throat, choking hard in his anger, his rage.

Dean went flying backward suddenly, tossed by demon power, unable to get away otherwise.

Ruby, pushed up on her elbows, looking at him as she gulped in ragged breaths and nodded, "Better."

Dean looked over at her from where he lay a few feet away, panting heavily and slowly squeezed his eyes closed as he nodded, "M'kay."

*

Dean slowly walked into the cabin, wiping at his bloody lip with the back of his hand as he went.

Walking to the bedroom, Dean paused at the door.

Ellen sat in the center of the bed, her back against the headboard, Sam's upper body cradled in her lap, her arms wrapped around him, her eyes were closed, head tilted back.

Both appeared to be asleep.

"Hey," Jo said softly as she seemed to suddenly appear at his side, glancing into the room too.

"Hey, uh," he looked back into the room.

"Mom's been holding onto him for a while now," she shook her head, "I think they just fell asleep a bit ago though." Jo explained.

Dean nodded, "Oh."

Jo jutted her head toward the kitchen, "Come on, I'll get you some ice for that lip."

"Mmm," Dean stood looking at his brother and the woman who had become like a mother to them, finally tearing his gaze away, he nodded to Jo, "yeah, okay."

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

Dean's sitting at the kitchen table, he's not sure how long he's been there, as he sucks down a beer, then another, finally changing to a soda, not because he's done with drinking away the pain, but because he knows he's got something else to do tonight.

Slowly, ever so slowly the sun sinks down in the horizon and he can see her as he walks over to the window.

Jo and Bobby speak quietly in the kitchen, just behind him.

He can hear Jo chuckle at something Bobby said, just before dinner, what ever it is she's cookin', sizzles in the hot pan she has on the stove.

Ellen and Sam are still in the bedroom. 

Last time he looked, they were both still sound asleep, neither one having moved a muscle.

It's just as well anyway.

Slowly he raises his bottle of root-beer and salutes her, watching as her blond hair blows in the soft night breeze.

She's standing there in the dark of night, beside the Impala waiting for him.

Turning with a sigh, Dean announces half under his breath that he's gonna go check on Ellen and Sam again. 

**_" 'Don't look, don't look,' the shadows breathe, whispering me away from you. Don't wake at night to watch her sleep. You know that you always lose. This trembling , adored, tousled bird mad girl. But every night I burn, every night I call your name. Every night I burn, every night I fall again..." ~ The Cure_ **

*

Standing beside the bed, he's already changed his clothes, dark jeans, dark tee and over shirt, colors that will blend and bleed into the night, he reaches a hand out and trails the back of a finger down Sam's cheek.

Sam mumbles in his sleep and snuggles closer to Ellen and he can see her hands clutch him tighter, hear her mumbled words of comfort.

Dean smiles slightly, nodding as he pulls his hand away.

"Elle's good people, Sam. She'll take care of you. Be back when it's over, baby." he whispers softly, bending to drop a kiss on the top of Ellen's head before pulling back and heading to and out the bedroom door, pulling it closed behind him.

Dean doesn't say a word to Bobby or Jo, though he can hear them fussing in the kitchen as he heads to the front door and quietly slips out into the night.

"You ready?" Ruby asks as she pulls her hip off the side of the Impala, her arms remaining crossed over her chest.

Dean nods and heads to the driver side door, pulling it open, he slides behind the wheel.

A moment later the passenger door opens and closes and Ruby looks over at him.

"Just like in the yard," he nods her head in that direction, "no remorse, they didn't show any to Sam. You think about that, let it fuel you."

Dean nods as he leans forward, inserting the key in the ignition.

The Impala roars to life and Dean slowly backs out of the driveway. 

*

He stands in the dark of the woods, near the clearing gazing at the same ramshackle shack of a house that he got his brother out of.

Ruby is standing to his side and slightly behind him.

Dean glances back at her over his shoulder, "You stayin'?"

"Gotta see my pupil in action." she replies matter of factly.

Dean nods as he returns his attention to the house, in his hands he holds three things, a machete, a kaiser blade and his sawed off shot gun.

Dean tilts his head from side to side, letting the bones snap and crack, loosing himself up for the fight ahead of him.

**_"We are scanning the scene, In the city tonight. We are looking for you To start up a fight. There is an evil feeling, In our brains, But it is nothing new, You know it drives us insane. Running, On our way Hiding, You will pay Dying, One thousand deaths..." ~ Metallica_ **

Dean looks down at the machete in his hand and twirls it, as his face contorts into an angry, nearly evil snarl.

Stepping out of the shadows of the woods, Dean heads straight for the house.

"Go get 'em, tiger." Ruby mutters into the night as she watches, a smirk pulling at her lips, a look of almost pride shining in her blue eyes.

One of the men, the fat one with no hair is outside, he's polishing his motorcycle as he chugs down yet another beer, tossing the empty bottle toward the pile he's already emptied.

When there is no crashing sound of glass hitting glass, of breaking and shattering, the guy, even in his drunken stupor, frowns and turns just in time to see the look of rage on Dean's face before he reaches out and grabs the bald man by the head to steady him, shoving the machete into his throat and out the other side.

Dean watches in morbid fascination as the guys body spasms and twitches, eyes rolled up in his head, his hands at his throat, scrambling to get the blade out.

Dean doesn't even care about the choked sounds the guy is making or the blood that is squirting.

After a minute Dean reaches out again and pulls the machete out with one quick movement of his arm, the guys head nearly falls off his shoulders as he does and Dean kicks the tub of lard man away with a booted foot.

Dean's attention goes to the small living room widow as one of the men, some old guy in a camouflaged ball cap looks out the window then swears under his breath, when he doesn't see anything and walks away.

The front door of the house opens and Dean slinks back a little into the shadows, watching from the other side of the wall as he gets ready kaiser blade in hand.

The guy walks over toward the fat one now laying on the ground, blood pooled under him, but in the dark, it just looks like a puddle of blackness.

"Hey, Bubba, Elmer says we's gots ta-" the guy starts, then stops, Dean's pretty sure he's figured out that ole Bubba has expired and not in the most fun way.

Dean moves quick, out from behind the wall, swinging the blade, he misses the first time as the guy staggers back, eyes wide a small cry of terror falling from his lips.

Dean advances, kicking him square in the chest, sending him backward over a pile of boxes.

He's on the guy in a flash, slicing his throat ear to ear.

Dean pulls up and steps over the guy, not even giving him a second look, his attention is on the door and window.

He can hear movement, scrabbling around inside.

"Go Dean! Now!" Ruby's voice sounds from directly behind him and Dean's jaw clenches, hands tightening on the weapons in his hands.

Stepping forward he gets the rifle ready and kicks open the door.

**_"I'm the new way to go, I'm the way of the future. I'm the new way to go, I'm the way of the future. There's a lot of innocent people being crucified. You things things things of the flesh do it slow. Down avenues fuck me lust my eyes. Licking lips, encouraging Mr. Careworn. We'll infect your carnal mind, After The Flesh..." ~ My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult_ **

One, two, three, four, five, six rounds are fired and Dean is advancing, what's left of the door bangs closed behind him.

As Ruby enters she sees Dean, swinging the machete and the kaiser blade. 

The rifle is on the floor, he's using just the two blades, blood is spraying and men are screaming, trying to fight back.

Dean gets punched in the back and he staggers forward.

Ruby swears under her breath, as she advances, fighting the men while Dean slices them down.

"Where's your knife!?" Dean demands when he sees her from the corner of his eye.

"Not my fight, I'm just holdin' off the natives." she tells him, just before kicking one guy in the chest and sending him through the wall into the kitchen.

Dean doesn't argue, just nods and continues hacking away at these monsters parading as people.

One attacks Dean, doing fairly well for a little while, before the machete finds a home in his belly.

It's the guy with the camouflaged hat on.

He grins up at Dean as blood bubbles up out of his mouth, "You pretty boys brother?" he asks weakly, dying.

The old man nods to his own question, "We heard all bout how yous gonna save 'im." he snickers. 

"Mmm, you saved 'im real good." 

Dean stares, unmoving, caught in a daze.

"Sonofabitch!" Ruby snaps, grabbing Dean by the hair, and jerking his head up.

"Finish it!" she yells at him.

Dean blinks a few times, before looking back down at the man who is laughing at him.

Taking the blade, he slices the man's stomach open more and shoves his hand in, pulling out his intestine as he pulls his hand back.

The man's body convulses with each length of intestine Dean pulls out.

"Fuck you ya sonuvabitch!" Dean growls out, watching as he man's eyes go vacant.

Ruby has stopped fighting, staring at Dean, then blinks, turns away and continues to fight.

Pulling to his feet, Dean continues through the men, making short work of them all, Ruby aiding him by keeping them off him and at his mercy.

Soon, there is none left standing, Dean's covered in blood, his clothes, face and hands.

Suddenly tired jade orbs look over and lock with demon black ones as they slide to blue.

"Not bad, short bus," she tells him with a smirk.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Ruby have managed to drag the other two body's into the house so that they're all inside, all of them, every one of the fuckers who touched his brother are dead and gone, laying lifeless and bloody in that house that looks like a cross between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and one of the SAW movies. 

There's blood everywhere, Freddy Kruger would probably even shy away from the place it's so damn bad, but Dean can't even manage to summon up a single shred of remorse and Ruby's not letting him. 

Anytime he stops, pauses or looks back over his shoulder, she's right there, reminding him why he did this, why he needed to do it, and that it wasn't just for him. 

He knows this, he doesn't need her to tell him, and good God, he isn't sorry, but there is this tiny warning bell going off in his head about just how damn brutal he was, but then he shoves that warning aside and embraces the cold numbness that has settled over his heart.

Embraces it because it feels a hell of a lot better than the pain he was feeling, the pain he felt every time he looked at Sam and knew how badly he had fucked up.

When he could see what he had almost lost. His world.

Dean's pretty sure he knows know what it is that pushes people off the deep end after a murder, when they go against the law and grab their own justice. Harsh, unfeeling and cold as hell justice. 

And now, not only does he understand it, he silently applauds every last one of the poor bastards who did it, who got their revenge, because revenge was sweet as candy.

Making their way out of the house, Dean's pouring gasoline around the place, flinging it here and there as they head to the door and out.

Standing just off the porch, Dean lights a small amount of dynamite he had from a hunt a year back, when he and Sam had needed to go down in some mine shafts.

Tossing it inside, Dean grabs Ruby's arm and runs, pulling her with him as they run at full speed away from the house, getting just out of reach of the blast as it explodes, flames shooting upward toward the sky.

Falling face first against the ground, they both push up on the palms of their hands and look back over their shoulders at the house, before pushing themselves up and onto their feet, running for the woods and the Impala.

**_"All aboard! HA HA HA HA HA HA - I I I I I I I... Crazy, but that's how it goes, Millions of people, living as foes. Maybe, it's not too late. Too learn how to love, and forget how to hate. Mental wounds not healing, life's a bitter shame, I'm going off the rails of a crazy train..." ~ Ozzy Osbourne_ **

Reaching the Impala, Dean goes to the trunk, he's carried back his weapons, tossed a few out in the yard of the house as they were pulling the stragglers in, and now he's popping the trunk, dumping the bloody items inside.

Dean lets out a long breath, and hangs his head, one hand still on the trunk lid, raised high in the air. "God, Bobby and Ellen are gonna freak," he snickers and shakes his head.

There's no reply from Ruby, just the sound of the night, crickets and bugs buzzing about. 

Readjusting the way the weapons lay in the trunk, Dean takes the kaiser blade in hand and turns it over a few times, his smile slowly falling from his face as he looks at it.

In one quick move, Dean spins around, face twisted in a sneer, the blade making contact with the body behind him.

Wide blue eyes stare at him in shock, as blood dribbles out from between parted lips.

"Dean, what-" Ruby's voice dies away as she looks from Dean to the skinny guy staggering back from him, his steps unsure, unsteady.

Skinny tries to swallow, but more blood fills his mouth. "Yer - yer, Dean," he nods to his own question, "he spoke of you."

Dean grits his teeth and takes a step forward, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, the kaiser blade still in one hand.

"You're one of them?" Dean juts his chin toward the burning house.

Skinny shakes his head slightly, big round, cloudy blue eyes darting. "I was good ta 'im," he tells Dean, as blood bubbles over, spills down Skinny's chin and onto his chest, "fed 'im an' took care of his eyes."

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Yeah, you did a bang up job," Dean's hand moves, hooking into Skinny's scrawny stomach, then ripping upward.

As Skinny falls to the forest floor, Dean watches without sympathy or remorse, "I'll be sure to tell him you said hello." Dean mumbles, nudging Skinny's dead body with a booted foot.

*

**_"This Romeo is bleeding, but you can't see his blood, it's nothin' but some feelings that this old dog kicked up. It's been raining since you left me, now I'm drowning in the flood, you see I've always been a fighter, but without you, I give up. Now I can't sing the long song, like the way it's meant to be. I guess I'm just not that good anymore, but baby that's just me and I will love you baby, Always... ~ Bon Jovi_ **

Dean stood over the bed as Sam slept silently, unmoving and peaceful.

He wasn't sure when it was that Ellen had left him to go to her own room, the cabin was quiet and dark now, everyone else in their beds, so thankfully they had not seen him as he walked in, his clothes stained red with blood.

He had no idea where Ruby disappeared off to and he didn't really suppose it matter. She had ridden back with him to the cabin, then mysteriously disappeared just after the passenger door of the Impala had closed. 

Sam stirred, rolling over onto his back and sniffling a soft sleepy moan leaving him. "Mmm, Dean?" he asked, voice soft and sleep rough.

"Yeah, Sammy," he answered softly, "it's me. Go back to sleep." Dean told him softly, reaching out, fingertips dancing across his brother's forehead to push back long bangs.

Sam sniffled again and stretched before rolling over and raising his head, laying on his stomach. 

"Lay - lay with me?" Sam asked him, looking in the direction his brother's voice had come from.

Dean blew out a breath as he looked down at himself shaking his head. 

"No, Sammy, I can't," Dean told him looking back at him.

Sam slowly frowned, "W-why?"

Dean sighed, huffed and turned toward the door, "I had somewhere to go tonight Sam, something I had to do. I - I need a shower," he nodded, "then I'll come lay with you."

Sam rolled and pushed up slowly, weakly, into a partial sitting position, frown creasing his brow.

"What's the matter, Dean? What happened?" Sam asked him softly.

Dean hung his head, facing away from his brother, "Nothin'', Sam. Nothin' that didn't need to, m'just dirty. S'okay, I'll be back." Dean told him softly, before walking out of the room.

A few moments later the sound of the shower turning on could be heard in Sam's room. 

Sam slowly lowered himself back down onto the pillows.

**_"Look into my eyes, you will see, what you mean to me. Search your heart, search your soul, and when you find me there, you'll search no more. Don't tell me, it's not worth trying for, don't tell me it's not worth dying for, you know it's true, Everything I do, I do it for you..." ~ Brian Adams_ **

Dean walked back into Sam's room a few minutes later, the house so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Climbing into the bed, he pulled Sam into his arms, holding him tightly and kissing his temple.

"G' night, Dean." Sam whispered softly.

Dean took in a deep breath and let it out slow, "Night, Sammy."

* * * 

Somehow, they've turned, rolled, and now Sam's back is facing Dean, he notices it when he hears Sam's small soft whimpers and his lashes flutter, eyes opening. 

His face is buried against the back of Sam's neck, Dean brushes his lips against the warm sweat damp skin, making comforting noises, shushing him as he holds onto Sam just a little tighter. 

"S' okay, baby. I gotcha, I gotcha." Dean whispers against the tender flesh, Sam's longish hair tickling his face. 

"Erhmm... nooo..." Sam whimpers out softly in his sleep and Dean frowns into the darkness, jaw clenched, muscle twitching.

He knows that they aren't alone, even before he hears the brush of material against material, the clip of a booted foot hitting the wooden floor of the bedroom, Dean knows that he and Sam aren't alone in the room, but he doesn't move, doesn't look over, just holds Sam a little tighter as he sleeps.

"S' not going to go away just because of what I did, is it?" Dean asked softly.

"No," is the immediate answer, as boots clip clop across the floor, stepping closer to the bed, and then he can see her there, or at least the moonlight shining against her blond hair as she crouches on Sam's side of the bed, looking at the two of them, "why would it?" 

Dean sighs, hot breath ghosting over the back of Sam's neck, "I dunno," Dean mumbled, having already known the answer she would give, having known it before hand, but somehow, somewhere in there, he had hoped...

Dean lifts his head to look at her, "I dunno what to do, Ruby. I dunno how to fix this! Give me a broken bone, a gaping wound," Dean nods to his words, "those I can fix, this..." he shook his head as he looked back down at his brother, "I jus' dunno."

Ruby huffs as she pulls up to her full height, one hand reaching out to Sam to flip back a strand of his long bangs. "Looks to me like ya got two of those right here." she tells him, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, well..." Dean mutters, tearing his gaze away from her and turning his head.

"I fucked up, I know it and Sam knows it." Dean sighed and let his head fall back down against the pillows, "Nothin' I can do ta fix it."

Ruby turned, staring to pace away from the bed, "Is that what Sam said?" she asks.

Dean huffs out a hot breath, "He called for our dad, not me. For him," Dean nods, "so, yeah, in not so many words."

Ruby turned on the heel of her boot, facing Dean, eyes narrowed, "So you're no better," she frowned, nodding, "Huh..."

Dean frowned at her, his head lifting slowly from the pillows, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Oh nothing," Ruby mumbles as she turns, walking toward the bedroom door, turning back again once she has reached it. "For the last year those bastards took from your brother, his right to do anything, like say, speak for himself." she tossed out, "What is it that you're doing, Dean?" she asked him.

Dean frowns harder, his gaze darting to his brother's sleeping form before going back to the demon in their room, only she isn't there anymore and he is left with only staring at the closed bedroom door.

*

"Stop! No! Don't touch me! Get off me! Stop! Oh God!" Sam screams, arms flailing, batting away unseen touches, his body convulsing, back arching as he gags and twists on the bed. 

Dean startles awake at the first cry that falls from Sam's lips, reaching for him, only his touch is knocked away along with the phantom ones that no one save for Sam can see. 

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean calls out to him, moving to grab Sam's forearms, holding his flailing limbs away as he nearly has to pin Sam against the bed. "Sam, it's me! It's Dean! You're safe! You're with me!"

Sam gasps in a breath, a whimper falling from his lips as his chin quivers, "D - Dean?" he shakes his head, "No, no, don't look at me," Sam sobs, "don't look at me!" he cries, breaking into nearly hysterical fits of crying.

"Sammy," Dean breaths his name, jade orbs darting, searching his brother's face before releasing his forearms and pulling him in close.

Sam's wrists are raw, the skin badly damaged, but they were the last things Dean had been worried about after seeing Sam's eyes and the bedsores. 

Like the bruises on Sam's body, Dean planned take care of his wrists the morning after he had found Sam, after Sam has calmed, but that hadn't worked out so well, not to mention at this point Dean isn't so sure Sam will ever calm. 

"S'okay, Sammy, you're safe. It's okay." Dean croons to him softly as he holds Sam tight in his arms, feeling the way Sam's body jerks and shudders against him as he cries softly.

"I - they - drugged," Sam muttered brokenly, shaking his head, "I didn't want -" Sam started to cry harder, reaching up to grab onto Dean's shoulder, short broken nails digging into Dean's flesh.

"Shshsh, s'okay, Sammy. I know, s' okay." Dean tells him softly, turning his head slightly to drop a kiss against Sam's temple.

Sam gasps in a breath, arms suddenly flailing again, body bucking as if to try to get up. "No! Oh my God! No! They'll find me! Oh God..." 

"Sammy, no, they're not going to come for you, believe me!" Dean told him, jaw clenching as he held onto Sam.

"No - he - they said," Sam hiccupped in a breath, "they'd find me, find you," his face crumbled at the thought of them touching Dean, doing to Dean what they had to him.

Dean's heart broke even more, though he hadn't thought it possible, as he looked down into Sam's face as he cried. 

"Shshsh, s'okay, Sammy. S'okay. No body's gonna hurt you again," Dean shook his head as he clenched his jaw, face contorting into an angry sneer, "Not ever." he spat out the words as he pulled Sam to him, holding his brother tightly in his arms. 

**_"...If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lay with me and just forget the world....show me a garden that's bursting into life....all that I am all that I ever was, its here in your perfect eyes they're all I can see.... ~ Chasing Cars, Snow patrol_ **

Sam clung to Dean, face tucked in against his neck as he wept, pulling at Dean, trying to get him even closer, though there was no space between them as it was. 

Dean didn't argue however. Where once upon a time he might have joked and told Sam he was being a girl, the words never even formed on his tongue as he held onto Sam tighter. Where once he might have complained of Sam smothering him, he welcomed his brother's body heat and presence. Where once he might have told Sam that he needed a cup of coffee and a big ass breakfast, that Sam was eating up his 'refueling' time, Dean clung to his brother silently, willing to give him as long as Sam needed, as they both needed.

Dean wasn't sure how long he held onto Sam like that, how long they clung onto one another as though the other might simply vanish if they let go for any reason. 

When next Dean actually took notice of his surroundings, it was to find the sun shining brightly in through the rooms lone window and he could hear Ellen, Jo and Bobby out in the kitchen milling about, though Dean still didn't move. 

Sam's body had grown lax in his arms a long time ago, but Dean hadn't released him, hadn't pulled back his head to see if Sam was asleep or if the tears were now just silently falling and Sam had simply spent all of his energy.

Instead he simply held him as tightly as he could, every so often dropping soft kisses against the side of his head, his shoulder, or neck. 

It wasn't until there was a soft knock at the bedroom door that Dean moved at all, and only then it was just to turn his head and look back over his shoulder as the bedroom door creaked slowly open.

"Dean, hun, breakfast is ready. I know you're fit to be tied," Ellen shook her head, "but'cha gotta keep yer strength up," she gave a small nod toward them, "for both of ya."

Dean nods slightly before turning his head back, dropping a soft kiss against Sam's neck as Sam mutters softly in his sleep.

"Shshsh, s'okay, Sammy." Dean tells him softly before laying his head against Sam's shoulder, staring at the wall. 

He can hear Ellen sigh softly because he isn't moving, isn't getting up to go eat like she thinks he should, and then there is the soft click of the door as she closes it, leaving them alone once more.

He can hear the soft clip clop of her low heeled boots against the wood floor as she walks away and Dean sighs softly, closing his eyes.

He knows that they mean well, all of them, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, but he just wishes that he and Sam were alone. 

It would be easier if they were just alone, just he and Sam and together they'd get through this... somehow. 

**_"We'll do it all, on our own. We don't need Anything or Anyone... ~ Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol_ **

Dean opens his eyes slowly, his stomach rumbling as he can now smell the breakfast he had been tole about minutes before, the aroma making it in under the door.

He actually wouldn't be too surprised to find Ellen standing outside it wafting the damn smell into the room just to get him to move.

With a sigh, Dean turns his head toward Sam, staring at his profile.

Where once there were long dark lases framing his closed eyes as Sam slept, there were none, instead a clear crystal like covering coated the area. Well, at least it wasn't yellow puss anymore.

Where once Sam's face was nearly flawless, it was littered with bruises and craw marks, cuts and scrapes, worse than it had ever been on any hunt.

Sam's long bangs are wet with sweat and clinging to his high forehead, Dean is sure he's probably sweating his ass off in all the layers of clothes and blankets, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Sam he has to take any off, and if Sam is okay with the sweating, then so is he.

After another few moments of staring at his brother's face, Dean starts to move away, pulling slowly and gently away from him, carefully moving to not wake Sam or jostle him.

Dean still isn't completely sure of all of Sam's injuries.

When he had found Sam, the main two things he had noticed had been Sam's eyes and the bedsores, they'd taken Dean's attention away from anything else.

After, there had been the thing when Ellen had put in those eye drops, and well, he just hadn't wanted to upset Sam anymore than he already had been. 

Later today Dean would have to search Sam over, find out what all there was that needed to be taken care of.

Sam had slept a lot that first day back, maybe Sam's eyes and the sores were the worst of it, maybe all Sam needed was some rest and...

Yeah, Dean had a horrible feeling he was only kidding himself there, that maybe he was blocking out a few things he had actually already glimpsed that first night, like Sam's wrists, because he just couldn't handle knowing, admitting that they were there.

Walking slowly across the room, Dean digs out a t-shirt from the duffel bag by the door and quickly slips it on before reaching for the door handle.

Glancing back at Sam, Dean opens the door and steps out, only pulling the door to, but not closing it behind him, wanting to be able to hear Sam if he should wake or have another nightmare.

The air outside the bedroom seems lighter somehow, less heavy and hot, as if maybe the room that Sam's in itself knows what has happened to it's occupant. 

With a sigh, Dean staggers into the kitchen area, rubbing his eyes as he goes.

Ellen glances up from the table as he enters, a welcoming smile on her face. 

"Gotcha a plate right here." she greets almost cheerfully and Dean nods to her, walking around the table to take a seat between her and Bobby, in front of the plate she has indicated.

Pancakes, sausage links and eggs fill Dean, taking away his hunger, but nothing seems to be able to fill the empty sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Nothing can take away the heartache and guilt that he feels at having failed Sam.

**_"Now I will tell you what I've done for you. 50 thousand tears I've cried. Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you. And you, still won't hear me. I'm going under..." ~ Going Under, Evanescence._ **

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

Sam's head rolls on the pillows as a long loud whine sounds deep in his throat, brows furrowing at the images only he can see, images, memories that flash in his brain as he sleeps.

_Darkness is his only constant, first due to the lack of light allowed him and then due to his having clawed crazily at his eyes trying in vain to get them to work, to be able to see them coming before it was too late and their hands were all over him again._

_Some part of himself believed that if he had been able to see before hand, that maybe he could have stopped it. Nevermind that he was bound and helpless. Nevermind that they drugged him more often than not._

_He had even begun to believe that Skinny was putting it, whatever 'it' was, in his food, if one could call that mush food._

_Sam had never felt so weak in all his life, his head swimming with disorientation, dizziness._

_The only clue he had to their arrival were the sounds, hushed voices and laughter, metal clanking and the whirling of the machine that pulled the chains at his wrists up tighter, but by then his struggles were useless, though he tried._

_God how he tried. Struggled and bucked, spitting and biting at them, anything he could do to try to get them to leave him alone, to not touch him, not violate him yet again._

_Tonight, he learned that it was better to just lay still and take it._

_They were walking into his room, he could hear them, their lewd comments and laughter, even if he couldn't see._

_Sam struggled, twisting and yanking at the chains, head shaking as he yelled at them._

_"No! No! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"_

_More laughter met his ears, cruel and vulgar laughter._

_A hand gripped his jaw and Sam tried to tug his face out of the grip before harsh lips descended on his._

_Sam bit at them savagely, hands curled into tight firsts above his head._

_That had only gotten him a hard punch in the face, his head snapping to the side, nearly making him black out, the coppery tang of his own blood filling his mouth._

_"Stupid fucking bastard!"_

_More laughter._

_"Pretty boy wants it rough tonight. We can do that alright. We can make it so rough he'll be feelin' it fer days."_

_Again the laughter that had started to nearly drive Sam insane._

_Hands grabbed at him, grabbed his legs, pulling them up, knees to his chest._

_Sam struggled, bucking._

_"No! No, goddamn you! No!"_

_Laughter._

_"Lookie there, boys, pretty boy wants it bad ta night."_

_Sam grit his teeth struggling uselessly as so many hands held him._

_Held his legs high and out of their way, held his head still so he wasn't even allowed the luxury of looking away, though he couldn't see his defilement anyway._

_Sam tried to jerk his legs away, lower them, pull them together, cover himself, block their touch, only to have them jerked more painfully apart._

_"Seems pretty boy is in the mood ta wrestle ta night."_

_It was the leader. Sam had come to recognise his voice above the others._

_The mattress dipped between his legs and Sam tried to shake his head, thrash, struggle._

_"No! No! Fuck you! No! M - my brother will KILL YOU!"_

_"When were through wit you boy, yer pretty brother won't wanna stick 'round yer nasty ass no time!"_

_Laughter filled the room._

_"Though when were finished wit ya maybe he can take yer place."_

_"No! No! Don't you touch him! Don't you touch him!" Sam growled out between clenched teeth as he fought against the hands holding him, spitting in the direction that the voice was coming from, but in his weakened state only ending up with spittle on his chin._

_More laughter filled the room and Sam cried out through clenched teeth the sound of their laughter nearly more than he can take, back arching, legs tugging at the hands holding him, body bucking and thrashing._

Sam's head thrashed on the pillows, tears slipping down the sides of his face into the hair at his temples, teeth clenched as he dreamt.

*

Dean pulled up from the table, taking his empty plate with him along with his glass of orange juice.

Turning to place the plate in the sink, Dean raised the rim of the glass to his lips, taking another swallow as he looked out the kitchen window, out at the world that seemed to fucking 'normal', like his brother wasn't laying broken in the next room.

"Hey, we got anything to put in this?" Dean asked as he lowered the glass.

"Yeah," Ellen told him as she turned slightly in her chair to look back at him, "more orange juice."

Dean glanced at her from the corner of his eye before huffing and reaching for the cabinet door. 

"Vodka, whiskey? Something?" Dean mumbled, as he looked from cabinet to cabinet. 

Ellen's gaze slid to Bobby who also had been watching Dean and was now looking from the corner of his eye at her.

"Dean, drinkin' yerself inta oblivion isn't gonna help Sam." Bobby told him.

Dean sighed, putting the glass of OJ down on the counter, head hanging, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on the sides, holding onto the edge of the counter as if it were the only thing holding him on his feet, knuckles turning white.

"Yeah, maybe..." he allowed softly.

*

_"Get me the small iron!"_

_Sam heard the words, but at the time, they'd made no sense to him, didn't register in his fogged brain. The only thing that did, the only thing that mattered was not letting them touch him. Not letting them get to Dean. Fighting. Fighting with everything he had left in him._

_Feet shuffled around him, though the hands still held him fast._

_"Hold 'im good."_

_More hands, so fucking many hands._

_Sam tugged harder at the chains, so hard he could feel blood running along his wrist, the sticky warmth of it, but he didn't care._

Sam's legs moved under the blanket, sliding up, feet flat against the mattress as he thrashed and twisted in the blankets, sweat covering his form under his hoodie and sweats, dotting his upper lip and brow, beads sliding down his forehead into his hairline.

_He screamed as horrible pain flared through his body, the source, the small area of flesh between his hole and his balls. Sam screamed and screamed and screamed until he started to choke on them._

_He could hear them laughing, chuckling at his pain as something was held there against his flesh._

_"Next time it'll be yer ass, pretty boy!"_

_More laughter._

_"Ya gonna hold still? Gonna be a good little bitch?"_

_Tears streamed down Sam's face as he sobbed._

_"ARE YA!?" the leader yelled at him as the iron was pressed against new fresh skin and held._

_Sam screamed, sobbing._

_The hands holding his head loosened and Sam nodded his head vigorously._

_Anything to escape that pain, that horrible, horrible pain._

_Only, the pain didn't stop. Even as the iron was pulled away, skin searing and sticking to it, tearing away from his body._

_Sam screamed again, head tilting back, body wracked with his sobs._

Sam's head and body thrashed, somehow his hands found the headboard, fingers curling around it, holding on in a white knuckled grip. "No," he whimpered, "please. No more..."

**_"Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left it's seed while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains within the sound of silence..." ~ Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel._ **

*

Dean sighed, pushing away from the counter and walked toward the bathroom, closing the door behind himself softly.

Inside, he leans back against the cool wood surface, jade green eyes rising to look heavenward as his bottom lip trembles. "So sorry I let you down, Sammy." Dean whispers brokenly.

*

_Within seconds after the iron is removed they begin raping him, one after another after another, skin sliding against wounded bleeding flesh, tearing him open in more ways than usual._

_Sam's entire body convulses as he sobs and grits his teeth, muscles taunt, face a deep shade of crimson, the tendons in his neck standing out until finally he screams and screams again, not stopping until the last is done with him, not even when he chokes and vomits up the mush that Skinny had fed him earlier._

_The vomited mush mixed with stomach acid burns his throat and nose, pouring out of his mouth to run down the side of his face when they refuse to let him turn his head to spit it out._

_He's left coughing and sputtering, bleeding and hurting when they finish with him and the chains are slowly released as the door closes behind them._

_He can touch his own face again and immediately, shaking hands go to his eyes, shoving away the blindfold and clawing at the mess that prevents him from seeing a crazed scream tearing from his throat._

_And then there are gentle hands there, soothing him, cleaning him and Sam can't wrap his mind around that. Doesn't understand it, until a single name forms on his lips._

_"Dean?"_

_"Uh, yeah, it's Dean." comes the hesitant reply._

_The voice sounds off, wrong, but Sam's so relieved, he tosses that fact away, reaching for what he believes is his brother, only to have the chains make the gesture impossible._

_"Dean, please..." Sam croaks, voice rough and weak, his throat raw._

_"Shshsh..."_

_Then the hands are quickly pulling away, he can hear feet scurrying back and Sam panics._

_"Dean! No! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me!" Sam cries out, but his voice is so wrecked that it doesn't come out much louder than a harsh whisper._

_The door to his room opens again and he hears the leader laugh._

_"I got somethin' fer ya." the leader sneers, holding in one gloved hand a fan belt from one of the trucks out back._

_Sam grits his teeth against the first few whipping slashes of it, as it hits his thighs and stomach, his body twisting in vain trying to get away from it, but then the leader gets creative and soon Sam is screaming as the belt strikes his groin._

_"Dean! Come back! Help me! Please don't leave me! Dean!"_

Sam screams, muscles flexed and ridged, neck arched, body trembling, tears streaming down his face, mixing with blood from his eyes.

*  
Dean is just coming out of the bathroom having splashed water on his face, dried his eyes.

A glance toward the kitchen reveals Ellen clearing the table, Jo at the sink and Bobby standing near the fridge putting stuff away.

Dean shakes his head at the sight, lips curving into an almost smirk. 

Odd ass make-shift family they got, that's for sure.

Sam's scream has Dean's near smile not only falling away, but his eyes widening as he runs for the bedroom door.

Somehow Ellen, Bobby and Jo make it there at the same time and Dean is having to shove past all of them in order to get to Sam.

He hears Jo and Ellen gasp, Bobby muttered curse and it only makes Dean shove through them harder, faster, his heart banging against his ribs.

The sight that greets him has Dean's knees nearly buckling under him, jade eyes wide as he sucks in his own gasp.

 _Sonuva…_

***

**_"In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobble stone. Neath the halo of a streetlamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp. When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of light..."~ Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel_ **

The pause in Dean's steps is merely milliseconds, but it seems like an eternity to him and he knows it does to Sam as well, but it takes him a second to be able to get his feet to listen to the commands from his brain and move his body over to the bed, to his brother's side. 

Rushing over, Dean unthinking, grabs Sam's biceps as he turns his head, looking down into Sam's wrecked face. "Sammy," his name is a rush of air that escapes Dean's lips as wide jade orbs track over his brother's face.

The seams of his eyes that had started to look as if they might be healing are now torn and bleeding, blood running, mixing with the tears that fall as Sam's lips quiver, face contorted with his sobs.

Glancing up, Dean doesn't understand why Sam has a death grip on the headboard, or maybe he does but he doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

It doesn't help any that as he turns his head, his gaze falls on Sam's raised legs under the blankets.

"No more! Please..." Sam shakes his head, "No more. No!" Sam's head tilts back as a sob rips from his throat.

Dean's hands move from Sam's biceps to cup each side of his face, forcing Sam to look toward him, even though he can't see him. 

"Sammy, s'okay, s'okay. I gotcha, I gotcha." Dean tells him softly.

"D-Dean?" Sam asks, his voice is so small and broken that at the mere sound of it, a sob burns in Dean's throat as he holds it back, nodding instead, even though Sam can't see him do it.

He nods until he can finally find his voice, "Yeah, Sammy, S'me."

Sam shakes his head, "P-please don't leave me again, please don't go," Sam begs softly another sob shaking his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

**_"Cover my eyes, cover my ears, tell me these words are a lie. It cant be true, that I'm losing you, the sun cannot fall from the sky. Can you hear heaven cry? Tears of an angel Tears of aaaaaaaa... Tears of an angel…" ~RyanDan, Tears of an Angel_ **

Dean sniffles softly as a tear falls from each eye, his gaze intent on his brother's face. "No, Sammy, not goin' anywhere, not leavin' you, promise."

Sam nods slightly, his head still held between Dean's hands, "O-okay, okay." Sam sighs softly, licking his lips and taking a deep breath, "Jus' ho - hold onto me." Sam tells him softly, breath catchin, bottom lip quivering, fat tears falling from his eyes, "please."

Dean shakes his head slowly, one hand moving from the side of Sam's face to smooth back his long sweaty bangs, "Not lettin' go, Sam. Not lettin' go." he tells him softly, leaning his head down to brush his lips against Sam's forehead.

"DON'T!" Sam screams at him, turning his head away as he cries harder, sobs shaking his shoulders. 

Dean jerks back, eyes wide as he looks down at his brother's face.

"Sammy?" he asks softly, brokenly.

"M'dirty," Sam tells him softly through his tears, head shaking, "don't kiss me."

Dean shook his head, tears falling as he cried softly, as silently as he could. "No, Sammy, never."

"I AM!" Sam screamed, "I am." he repeated softly.

Dean shook his head, blowing out a hot breath before taking in a deep shuddering one, his gaze searching Sam's face.

"Sammy, baby, what - what happened to your eyes?" Dean asks softly, sniffling softly.

Sam frowns through his tears, head shaking slightly, "M - my eyes?"

What Sam doesn't understand, what he doesn't remember is that during his thrashing while he was dreaming, during the worst of the nightmare, his hands had found their way to his face, broken nails clawing at his eyes as he tried to see his attackers.

Dean bites his lip to keep from losing it at the sight of the broken and confused look on Sam's face. 

"Shshsh, s'okay, never mind, baby boy, s'okay." Dean tells him, trying what he can to remove that look, a look that he just caused. 

Turning his head, Dean looks down Sam's body, the hand at Sam's hair moving down to one of Sam's knees, "Put - put your legs down." he told his brother, looking back at his face, "Come on, s'okay. I gotcha."

"No," Sam shook his head, "I can't, I can't," he told Dean, drawing in a shuddering breath, "they'll be back soon. I can't." he repeated, lips quivering.

Dean heard Bobby swear before his boots clopped against the wood floor, obviously walking out of the room, but Dean didn't look away from Sam, didn't look to see.

"Dean, do you want - " Ellen started, her voice soft.

Dean grit his teeth as he watched his brother, more than he wanted to know falling into place in his head about what had happened to him, his hands starting to tremble more, shake almost violently where they lay on Sam's form.

"No!" Dean shouts, interrupting Ellen.

Turning his head, angry jade orbs focused on her and Jo, "Get out! Just get out! Don't even look at him! Just get out of here!" Dean yells angrily.

Ellen's lips part, but the retort back dies on her tongue as she looks over at Jo and jerking her head toward the door, both quietly slipping out, closing it softly behind them.

Dean returns his attention to Sam, sniffling softly as he moves his hand from Sam's knee back to his head, smoothing back his hair once more.

"No, Sam," he shook his head, "you're wrong. No one is coming back. You're safe, I got ya." Dean tells him softly, glancing up at Sam's white knuckled grip in the headboard.

Dean reaches up for Sam's hand and starts to try prying his brother's fingers away from the woodworking. "Please, Sammy," Dean begs softly through more tears, "let go, baby."

Sam shakes his head, "No, I - I can't," Sam swallows hard, "don't wanna. S'easier if I hold on," Sam's bottom lip trembles, "I'm so sorry, Dean. Don't hate me," Sam's face crumbles as he cries, "please don't hate me."

Dean shakes his head, "No, I don't hate - Sammy, why would I hate you? No." Dean tells him, slipping one arm under Sam as he lowers his upper body to Sam's, hugging him to him, his face turned away from Sam's so he won't feel his tears fall, won't know.

**_"...They're gonna find you just believe, you're not a person, you're a disease. All these lives that you've been taking. Deep inside my heart is breaking..." ~ Daughtry, All These Lives_ **

A second later the bedroom door burst open, Bobby rushing over to the opposite side of the bed from Dean.

Sam's entire body jerked, shaking and trembling. "Oh God, they're back! They're back!!" 

Dean pulled back from Sam slightly to look over at Bobby frowning in confusion and anger.

"No! Dean, don't leave me! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me!!!" Sam yelled, panicked. 

Dean glanced down at his brother, one hand going to his hair, smoothing it back, "Not leavin', Sammy. Not goin' anywhere." Dean told him softly, as he looked from Bobby's face to the syringe in his hand.

"What the fuck is that?" Dean barked at Bobby.

"Somethin' ta help him relax, Dean. He's scared as hell," Bobby shook his head, "he can't just lay there holdin' onto the bed like that forever." 

Dean looked from the syringe to Sam's panicked expression, feeling his brother tremble and shake in his arms.

Dean nods finally as he lifts his gaze back to Bobby's face, "Yeah, alright, fine."

Bobby nods and glances toward Sam's arm, "Gimme an arm."

Dean reaches for one of Sam's hands struggling with him, prying his fingers loose from the wood, "Come on, Sammy," Dean grunts out as he fights Sam to make him let go, "let go of it, come on."

Sam starts to cry again, shoulders and chest shaking, heaving as one hand comes free of the headboard and Dean straightens his arm out against the bed toward Bobby.

"No!" Sam screams, "Don't hurt me! Please, oh God, don't... hurt... me." he sobs brokenly.

Dean shakes his head, looking back at Sam and leaning in to brush his lips across Sam's forehead, "No, Sammy, not gonna hurt you."

Bobby wipes the area off with an alcohol swab and inserts the needle.

Sam screams, "No! No! No more drugs! No! What are you giving me!" 

Dean grit his teeth as his gaze meets Bobby's across the bed.

Neither had had any idea about that, about Sam being drugged, but it made sense, Sam was a big guy, even a house full like Dean found would have had a hard time... at least at first.

That thought has Dean grinding his teeth so hard it's a wonder he isn't breaking any as he holds onto Sam.

Finished inserting the sedative, Bobby pulls out the needle, wiping the site again with an alcohol swab.

"Okay, Sam. We're done. Sorry about that, son." Bobby tells him, though his eyes stay locked with Dean's, even as he pulls away from the bed.

Turning, Bobby walks out of the room with another muttered curse under his breath.

Dean's hand slid down Sam's arm, fingers entwining with Sam's before he pulled Sam's hand back, their fingers remaining laced.

"Shshsh, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't know. I didn't know, I swear it." Dean told him softly. 

Sam hiccupped in breaths, bottom lip quivering.

"Jus' - jus' don't leave me." Sam told him brokenly.

Dean shook his head slightly, "No," he whispered out, fighting back tears, the burn they caused in his throat, "not leaving. Would never leave you."

Sam took in a breath, holding it a moment before letting it out slow, obviously in an attempt to calm himself as he nodded, "You did," Sam told him, "S’okay, I understand." he shook his head, "M'not mad, jus' stay with me this time," he swallowed, "please?"

Dean frowned, shaking his head, "Sammy, I've never left - would never leave, you. How can you say that?"

Sam frowned, "After they," he frowned, pressing his lips together.

Sam turned his head away, sniffling softly, "After that time, when you came, you left right after, before he beat me."

Dean's eyes widened, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush, he felt like Sam had just sucker punched him. 

He shook his head as he looked down at his baby brothers profile, "No, Sammy, I was never there," he reached out, sliding his hand under Sam's cheek and turning his head toward him, "I never left you!" Dean insisted. 

Sam gave a small drugged smile as he reached up with the hand his fingers of which were still laced with Dean's and ran the back of it along Dean's cheek, "S'okay."

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

**  
_"...I'm never gonna let you go, I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever. Gonna try to make up for the times I hurt ya so. Gonna hold your body close to mine, from this day on we're gonna be together. Oh I swear this time, I'm never gonna let you go..." ~ Sergio Mendes_  
**

Dean grit his teeth, lips parting slightly, face crumbling as he gazed down at Sam, crying, biting back the sound of it as much as he could though small whimpers broke from his throat despite his best efforts.

Sam thought he had left him. Thought that he had come, and then in the middle of their fucking abuse had just left him there! It wasn't even him, he hadn't... would never... The very idea had Dean's heart aching as though it were being squeezed in a vise and slowly breaking. 

But then, hadn't he walked out once on Sam? When Sam had called for their father just after Dean had brought him back, he'd walked out. Left Sam there when he had needed him, pouted and left. 

_Sonuva…_

Ironically, Dean had thought that from losing Sam for that year, the worst year of his entire fucking life, of both their lives, that his heart was already to broken, that the remains left couldn't shatter any smaller. He was wrong.

Dean sniffled softly, turning his face toward Sam's hand and kissing the back of it before it fell to his chest, his own hand still held within Sam's, their fingers still laced. 

"Sammy," Dean shook his head, "I'm so sorry, baby, so very sorry." he licked his lips, _Sorry that I walked out when you called for dad_. "I dunno what they told you, but," he sucked in a ragged breath, choking on the sob that wanted to tear from his throat that he refused to allow, "I swear to God, I was never there. I would never have left you there!"

Sam's lips quirked again in the same small drugged smile, "S'okay." he muttered softly, turning his head, his face away from Dean.

Dean dipped his head, brushing his lips against Sam's temple as he moved his free hand out from under his brother, reaching up to pull Sam's hand free of the headboard.

"Let go, Sammy, s'okay," Dean whispered, lips against his temple as his gaze darted up to Sam's hand.

"Nothin's gonna happen. You let go with one hand and you're still okay, right?" Dean pressed his lips against Sam's hair, eyes squeezing closed for a second before he opens them again and pulls his head back just slightly, "Come on, Sam. Gimme your other hand." Dean coaxed softly.

Slowly, very slowly, Sam's grip on the headboard loosened, his hand falling into Dean's open one just under it.

Pulling Sam's arm down, his hand wrapped securely in Dean's hand, Dean raised their hands to his mouth, brushing his lips across the knuckles of Sam's.

"See? You're safe, s'okay." Dean told him softly.

Sam swallowed as he nodded his head slowly, his head turning his face toward Dean once more and Dean leaned in to brush his lips across Sam's.

Dean moved a knee up onto the bed, slowly starting to climb in only to have Sam's hands grip his tighter, his body go ridged.

"Dean!" Sam called out to him, panic clear in his voice.

"Shshsh, S'just me, Sammy. It's just me." Dean told him softly, moving the rest of the way onto the bed, carefully climbing over Sam, trying not to touch or jar him too much as he got over onto his side.

Once there, Dean pulled his hands from Sam, though Sam started to get anxious slightly as he did, his movements and breathing were much more even now, drugged with the sedative. Though Sam scrambled for Dean, to grab his hands once more, a small whimper breaking from his throat.

"S'okay, Sam," Dean shook his head as he reached for his brother, arms sliding around him to pull Sam up to him, fitting him between Dean's legs as he leaned back on the headboard, Sam's head cradled against his chest, "just gettin' us into a more comfortable position, baby. That's all." Dean soothed, running a hand through Sam's hair. "Shshsh, s'okay, Sam, s'okay. Not goin' anywhere."

Sam sighed softly, the tip of his tongue darting out once again to wet his dry chapped lips. 

"Ya thirsty, Sam?" Dean asked him softly, suddenly wishing they'd set up some sort of bell system or something so he wouldn't have to leave Sam even to go get him a drink.

Sam frowned slightly, "Thirsty?" he thought about that for a minute, brow furrowed. "Um," he shook his head, "I - I dunno. Am I?"

Dean frowned down into his brothers face, confused at his inability to even make the decision as to whether he was thirsty or not. 

"Sammy..." Dean started, but paused, not knowing how to ask, or what to ask.

"I - I only had a drink when I ate, which wasn't often. Once a day I think," he frowned, brow creasing as he bit his lip, "or maybe it was night," he shook his head, "I don't... I don't know anymore."

A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door before it slowly opened and Ellen stuck her head in, "Dean, uh, I brought Sam a drink, hun," the door opened more, revealing her standing there holding a glass of orange juice in one shaking hand. Her brown gaze darted down to the glass then back up to Dean's face as she gave a small slight shrug, "I dunno if he wants -"

Dean offered her a small soft smile nodding.

"It's perfect, Elle." he told her softly, interrupting her nervous words.

Ellen gave a sigh of relief and nodded, walking toward the bed. 

"It's what we had this morning, since it's fresh squeezed, I strained it for him." she told Dean as she handed him the glass, "Don't quite know how it's gonna sit on his stomach, but..."

Dean shook his head as he brought the glass around to Sam's lips, his gaze darting to her face briefly, "No, Ellen, it's perfect. Thank you." 

Looking back down at what he was doing, Dean slowly tipped the glass against Sam's bottom lip. "Come on, Sammy, s' orange juice. S'okay, go slow."

Sam's lips parted, clean glass clicking against teeth as Sam lifted his head slightly, gulping down the juice.

"Easy, Sammy," Dean told him softly, "Go slow."

But Sam wasn't listening, he was lost to the taste of oranges on his tongue the cool liquid sliding down his throat. 

When had anything ever tasted this good? Felt this good? Sam couldn't remember and yet somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was only orange juice, but to him, now, it might as well have been manna from heaven. 

So much better than nearly tasteless, save for a slight medicinal flavor, mush. Better than room temperature well water that was given in what he had been sure was a dirty plastic cup. This was heaven.

Sam gulped in the juice, small rivets of it sliding past his mouth, down the corners, dribbling over his chin and yet as Dean tried to pull the glass away to wipe his face, Sam's hand lifted to press the glass to himself, to not allow it to be pulled away.

He didn't care that he was making a mess, that his face would soon be sticky with residue. 

It wasn't until his body forced him to take a deeper breath in the middle of his drinking and he started to choke, that Sam allowed Dean to pull the now nearly empty glass from his lips.

Dean quickly pulled Sam up more, handing the glass back to Ellen and struggled to get Sam into a sitting position as he coughed and sputtered. 

"Easy, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean comforted, running a hand lightly over his back, his gaze intent on Sam's face, though his brother was hanging his head.

When Sam's coughing died away, he relaxed back against Dean with a sigh, licking the sticky sweetness from his lips.

Dean smiled softly at his brother as he wrapped his arms around him tightly and leaned back against the headboard again, his gaze darting over to a very worried looking Ellen.

Dean nodded, "S'okay, Elle., I got him. Thank you." 

Ellen's gaze slid from Sam to Dean as she nodded and turned to go.

"More?" Sam asked softly.

Dean looked down at his brother, as he cradled his upper body in his arms. "What?"

Sam gave a dopey smile, "I wan' some more."

Dean smiled at him, tears forming in his eyes before he looked over at Ellen, who was smiling too, tears in her own.

"Well, you heard the man, Ellen," Dean told her, "more orange juice!" his smile eased into a soft one as he looked at Ellen, "please." he added.

Ellen nodded, "Yeah, alright," she looked at Sam, "you're gonna kill an entire orchard aren't ya?" he teased him, feeling a bit of relief, the first bit since Dean had brought Sam back, before walking out of the room.

Dean dipped his head down, dropping a soft kiss against Sam's sticky lips, then licking the sweetness from his own. "You taste like an orange." Dean muttered softly.

Sam gave a dopey drugged smile, "S'good." he nodded slightly, licking his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. 

Dean chuckled softly, "Yeah, s'good, alright." he agreed, pulling his head up, "Never seen you so happy about orange juice before." he remarked with a sigh.

Sam frowned, slowly releasing his bottom lip, "Oh."

Dean quickly looked down at Sam, hearing the change in his voice.

"No, no Sammy, s'good. Really." Dean told him, his arms tightening around Sam.

Sam gave Dean a questioning look as he turned his head to look up into his brother's face that he couldn't see.

Dean huffed, "Sam, I'm sorry. I'm an ass, it's great that you are excited about orange juice, I-" Dean shook his head, "I wasn't thinkin'."

Sam frowned, turning his head, his face away from Dean, "S'okay," he licked his lips, "it was stupid anyway." Sam told him softly, reaching up with one hand to wipe at his mouth. 

_Way to go Dean, stick your damn size twelve inch foot in your even bigger mouth why don't ya? Sonuva…_

Dean sighed softly, raising a hand to comb his fingers through Sam's sweat damp hair, pushing it back from his face.

"You're all sweaty." Dean mumbled softly.

Sam nodded, just as the bedroom door opened again and Ellen brought in another tall glass of orange juice.

She offered Dean a small smile as she handed him the glass, "Here ya go, more OJ." she said softly, his gaze falling to Sam and lingering a moment, before she tore it away, shaking her head and turned heading back toward the door.

"I'll just come get the glass in a bit, Dean." she muttered over her shoulder as she quietly slipped out.

Dean glanced up from bringing the glass toward Sam's lips to nod to Ellen, though she couldn't see it. "Uh, yeah, okay, Elle." 

"M'hot," Sam told him softly, though he made no move to uncover himself or pull up the sleeves of his hoodie.

"S'okay, here's your juice," Dean told him, bringing the glass to Sam's lips, "after you drink, we'll get you more comfortable."

_And I'll take a look, see what all injuries you have._

Dean swallowed hard at that thought, a frown creasing his brow, as he watched his brother drink.

*

Dean took the glass from Sam's shaking hands as the last of the juice was drained, setting it down on the bedside table. 

Half way through drinking, Sam had claimed the glass with his own hands, holding it much like some little kid would, two handed.

The sight of it had broken off another piece of Dean's already shattered heart.

His arm wrapped around Sam, Dean slowly slid out from behind him, lowering Sam back against the pillows as he slid from the bed.

"I'm gonna go get a basin of water to clean you up with, okay Sam?" Dean asked him softly.

Sam nodded, hands grabbing fistfuls of the comforter tightly. 

"Yeah, s'okay. I'll be okay." Sam told him softly.

Dean's gaze moved from Sam's face to his hands and back worriedly, as he chewed his bottom lip.

Reaching out, Dean cupped Sam's face in his hand, "I won't be a minute, I swear."

Sam nodded again, licking his sticky lips. "Yeah, s'okay." he sighed softly.

Dean returned the nod, jade orbs intent on his brother's face. "Okay."

With that, Dean pulled his hand back and hurried toward the door and out, leaving it half open so he could hear Sam if there was any problem at all.

Going into the bathroom, Dean grabbed a basin from under the sink and began to fill it with warm water, then grabbed a small bar of soap and a soft washcloth.

Once the basin was full, Dean reached for the handle of the faucet, his eyes catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.

He had a couple days growth of beard, his hair was in disarray and he didn't look as though he had slept in a week. Lovely.

Grabbing up the basin of water, soap and cloth, Dean hurried back to the bedroom with Sam.

"Sam," Dean called to him as soon as he crossed the threshold into the bedroom, "it's me. See? Wasn't long, right?"

Sam startled just slightly at the sound of footsteps walking into the room; familiar, so horribly familiar and always followed by unmentionable, terrible things...

Sam sighed at the sound of Dean's voice, comforted by it. His lips curving slightly into a small smile as his head turned toward Dean. 

"No," Sam agreed, "not long." 

Dean gave a small nod, his lips pulling into a small smile at the sight of Sam's as he walked over, placing the basin of water on the night stand, along with the small bar of soap and washing cloth.

Turning, Dean ran a hand over his face as he looked down at his brother, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a weary sigh.

"Okay, Sammy, here we go." Dean mumbles softly to him, as he reaches out, tossing back the covers from Sam's body.

Sam frowns at Dean's words. Here we go? Sam doesn't understand. His confusion is mixed with small tendrils of fear as the covers are tossed back from his body.

Sam jumps slightly, hands rising to gasp at Dean's, hitting only air.

"D - Dean?" Sam asks, the beginnings of panic clear in his voice.

Dean reaches for Sam's hands, holding them in each of his. "S'okay, Sam. It's just me." Dean tells him, shaking his head slightly as he looks down into Sam's face, "Jus' me." he repeats, slipping one hand out of Sam's to reach up and smooth back his hair. 

"Just try to relax," Dean tells him, as he does he could almost kick himself for it, figuring it was likely the dumbest thing to ever fall from his mouth.

Dean huffs, more at himself than anything. "I'm jus' gonna clean ya up, Sammy," he tells him softly, tone comforting, "Jus' clean ya up." Dean swallows hard as the thought runs through his head - And see what those bastards did to you. "Okay?" 

Sam swallows nervously, licking his lips and nods, "Mm, yeah, okay."

Pulling his hands slowly away from Sam, one sliding out of his bothers hand the other away from his head, Dean reaches for the hem of the hoddie and starts to raise it. 

Sam's entire body jerks, his hands reaching for Dean's, for the hem of the shirt to pull it back down, "No!" Sam shakes his head adamantly, "Please, no!"

Sam's mouth opens again as his head turns just slightly back and forth on the pillows, but no sound comes out, just the spiderweb thin stand of spittle that runs from upper jaw to lower just inside his mouth as Sam starts to cry, shoulders shaking as a sob tears from his throat.

Dean blinks back tears of his own as he leans his body down more, his chest touching Sam's so he knows he's there, face tilted up to look into Sam's. 

Sam's hands rise toward his face, nearly falling down on it as he covers his face with both hands, crying.

"Sammy, I need you to stop. I gotta get this off of you. Come on, man, you can do this." Dean tells him softly, but with a small amount of authority to his tone.

Sam's mouth snaps closed as he grits his teeth hard, an angry growl breaking form is throat as his hands curl where they sit on his face, digits clawing into his eye sockets. "I JUST WANT TO SEE!" Sam screams angrily between his teeth.

Dean jerks up as Sam claws at his face, eyes intent on Sam as he stands dumbfounded for a moment before he frowns hard at his brother.

"Yeah, well, you can't, Sam! I'm sorry, but you can't. And I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe! Safe, Sam. Ya got that? Now stop this! I need you to fucking stop it NOW!" Dean yells at him.

It's the same tone that Dean would use on a hunt, the same tone their father use to use. It was full of authority and brooked no argument. 

Of course, he doesn't mean to yell, but Dean can see that Sam is hanging onto his sanity by a mere thread. 

And Dean knows that if Sam doesn't give him just a little he's going to fall over into that abyss with him, and then Ellen and Bobby might just as well take them both out back and shoot them, cause they wouldn't be worth a goddamn anyway.

Releasing the hem of Sam's hoddie, Dean reaches up, taking Sam's wrists in his hands, gently pulling his hands away from his face as Sam gulps in air rapidly.

He's breathing too fast, too much air at a time, nearly hyperventilating, but at least he's letting Dean pull his hands away, he's not fighting him and he isn't clawing at his face. So, that had to mean somethin', right?

Dean gently lowers Sam's hands down to the mattress, his own laying softly on top of them for a moment, as he pauses, letting out a hot breath.

Licking his lips, Dean nods to Sam, even though he knows Sam can't see him, he does it, maybe more for himself than for Sam, Dean's not real sure right then.

"Okay, Sam. Just - just try to calm down a little." Dean tells him softly as he slowly pulls his hands off Sam's and reaches for the hem of his hoodie once again.

Slowly, his gaze trained on Sam's face, watching as Sam bit his lip, stray tears sliding down the sides of his face and into his hair, Dean raised the material up.

**_"So close no matter how far, couldn’t be much more from the heart. Forever trusting who we are, and nothing else matters.  
Never opened myself this way, Life is ours, we live it our way. All these words I don’t just say, and nothing else matters..."_ **

"Okay, Sam, here we go." Dean muttered half under his breath as he lifted the shirt up and over his brother's head, pulling it off with Sam still laying on the bed. 

The action of which trapped the shirt behind Sam, but it did at least get it off of him. 

"Lift up a little, baby." Dean told him softly, slipping an arm under and around Sam's shoulders to help him lift up, so that Dean could pull the shirt free with his other hand.

Dean slowly pulled back, his gaze darting from Sam's face down to his chest as he moved. 

"Okay, Sam, just gonna get the washcloth." Dean told him, when Sam started to move his hand off the bed and reach for him.

Dean's gaze flickered back to Sam's face as he nodded, his hand falling back against the mattress as he swallowed hard, before his breaths panted out fearfully. 

"S'okay, Sam." Dean told him as he quickly looked over at the basin of water, grabbing the small bar of soap up with it and dunking them both into the warm water. 

Lathering the cloth, Dean rung it out and turned back to Sam. "Okay, just gonna wash you off." Dean told him, softly, his gaze going from Sam's face down to his chest as his cloth covered hand lowered.

Moving his hand slowly over Sam's skin, Dean leaned in, inspecting ever scar, mole and indentation to see if they were new or something Sam had already had before. 

Dean's eyes narrowed, his brow quirking as his cloth covered hand ran over skin near Sam's left nipple. He didn't remember that mark, and he knew Sam's body like his own. 

It was small, like a knife nick, but it had been deep judging by the way it had healed, the scar tissue knotting slightly. 

Dean cleared his throat, teeth clenched as he moved his hand further along.

Reaching Sam's stomach, he felt the muscles under his hand flex and ripple at his touch, making Dean glance up at Sam's face. 

Watched as Sam's head rolled on the pillow, jaw clenched, breaths panting out through flared nostrils. 

"S'okay, Sam. Doin' good, bro. Doin' good." Dean told him, before tearing his gaze away to look back down.

Sam nods, swallowing hard, lips parting slightly as his tongue darts out to lick them. "Kay," he breaths the word, as his hands against the mattresses grip the fitted sheet. 

**_"...Trust I seek and I find in you. Every day for us something new... Open mind for a different view, and nothing else matters... Never cared for what they say, never cared for games they play... Never cared for what they do, never cared for what they know... And I know…"_ **

Moving his hand across Sam's stomach, Dean finds more small cuts, some healed, others still raw and jagged looking, mingled with long rope-like scars that lace across Sam's lower stomach. 

_"After that time, when you came, you left right after, before he beat me._ " Sam's words echo in Dean's head as he grits his teeth, forcing himself to breath and not hit something, punch a wall, scream and yell. Instead, Dean merely takes in a ragged deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth.

The criss-cross pattern of rope-like scars disappear under Sam's sweats and Dean reaches for the waistband as his gaze flickers up to Sam's face.

Sam head rolls on the pillow, lips pressing together in a hard line, it's obvious that he's trying to hold it together, that he knows what Dean is seeing, the evidence of his abuse at the hands of those maniacs.

"S'okay, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean mutters softly, tearing his gaze away from Sam's face to look back down, placing the washcloth aside, Dean tucks his thumbs up under Sam's boxers as well before he starts to lower the clothing covering his brother.

Sam jerks, legs lifting, bending at the knee, feet flat against the bed, his hands quickly moving to grasp at Dean's. 

"No! Don't! Please," Sam shakes his head, "I don't want you to see."

Dean licks his lips, blowing out a hot breath as he looks back up at Sam's face.

"Sam, it's okay. I - I'm not looking, just washing."

"Liar." Sam spats softly, face crumbling. 

Dean sighs softly, hanging his head, eyes squeezing closed for a moment before he opens them and looks back up at Sam's face.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean coaxes, "I need to see."

**_"...So close no matter how far, Couldn’t be much more from the heart... Forever trusting who we are, No nothing else matters." ~ Nothing Else Matters, Metallica._ **

Dean watches Sam sob silently for a few moments, his own chest and throat burning with sobs he keeps swallowing, jade orbs filled with unshed tears.

Finally, Sam manages to get a hold of himself enough that he lays sucking in gulps of air, his hands releasing Dean's as he nods. "S'kay." Sam mutters through his tears and Dean nods back to him. 

" 'Kay, Sammy. S'okay." Dean tells him, slowly easing his sweats and boxers down his hips and thighs, then down the rest of the way and off.

Dean doesn't stop there, but reaches for the tops of Sam's socks, pulling them down and off while he's at it, needing to see everything, needing to know, even as his heart feels like it's being squeezed inside his chest, his hands shaking.

Looking at Sam, Dean can see he's shaking, shaking like he's freezing to death, but somewhere in Dean's mind he knows that isn't what it is, but he has to ask, just because it's something normal, something like they use to say.

Reaching out as he steps closer to Sam, Dean wraps his hand around Sam's foot, "Ya cold, Sammy?" Dean asks him, gaze on his brother's face. 

Sam's entire body jerks at the contact of his hand on his foot.

His _foot_.

_...the HELL!?_

One of Sam's hands lifts to his face, cupping over his mouth as a silent sob wracks his frame, head rolling to the side.

"Dean," he mumbles behind his hand through his tears.

"Shshsh, s'okay, Sammy. S'okay." Dean tells him, reaching out with his free hand to place a hand on his shin, rubbing up and down in a small area of his calf.

Slowly unwrapping his hand from Sam's foot, Dean tears his gaze away from Sam's face to look over at it.

"Sonuva..." the beginning of the curse ward falls from between his gritted teeth before Dean can think to stop it as he sees the missing toe nails, the blood caked areas, toes that are black they are so horribly bruised. 

Sam sucks in a panicked breath, lips parting, chest rising and falling rapidly, his head rolling back toward Dean as his his face crumbles once again.

Dean's attention snaps back to Sam's face, as he tears his gaze away from his foot, then looks back at Sam's other foot, noting the same kind of damage to that one as well.

His hand on Sam's calf is gripping tighter now, Dean can't help it, doesn't even seem to realize it until he hears a long low whine break from Sam's throat and he tears his gaze away to look at Sam's face, then down at his own hand that is squeezing Sam's leg.

Dean jerks his hand away from Sam's leg like he's been burned, his wide jade eyes, moving back to Sam's face, before he can manage to clear his throat and attempt to calm his now panicked sightless brother.

Moving up the side of the bed, Dean reaches for and grips Sam's hand off the bed, pulling it away from the hold he had on the sheet and holds it within his own hands as he looks down at Sam's face.

"Shshsh, Sammy, s'okay. I gotcha. I gotcha." Dean comforts.

Sam still has one hand over his mouth, muffling his crying, but the tears continue to fall. 

Dean raises Sam's hand in his, to his lips, brushing his lips across the knuckles. 

"S'alright, Sam. S'alright." Dean tells him softly, "Almost done, baby." 

Lowering Sam's hand down onto his chest, Dean slips his hands away from it, and moves back down the bed.

He has to force himself to go because Sam is still a wreck, but if he stops now, he might not ever get up the courage to try again and he's fairly certain Sam will never allow him to.

So, he forces himself back down to the end of the bed, back to the washcloth he had abandoned before. 

Dean can see the same rope-like scars crisscrossing down to Sam's groin, across his upper thighs. It's obvious from the breaking and starting of a couple of the scars that Sam was struck in directly across his cock and balls with whatever they beat him with and Dean suddenly wishes he would have killed them all slower. Maybe beat a few of them before allowing them the comfort of death. 

But that's all ancient history now and there is nothing Dean can do but look at the evidence of the utter horror that Sam had lived through for an entire year.

_A year._

How can one ever reconcile not finding ones brother for an entire year? How? He should never have waited, should have went back as soon as Sam wasn't beside him that day. 

He should have done more, looked harder. 

Not let his goddamn pride keep him from it and called Ruby sooner. Something. Anything. But he hadn't. 

He'd failed Sam in ways he couldn't even begin to explain. It was something he would never forgive himself for, and Sam never should either. His fault. This was all his fault.

Reaching out, Dean picked up the washcloth, silent tears making wet tracks down his face as he pulls the cloth over with shaking hands.

Amongst the crisscross of scars there are teeth marks on Sam's hips, deep and purple bruising around the perfect outline of teeth in his flesh. 

They look new, maybe only a few days old, the skin still peppered with tiny blood blisters around the markings. 

As Dean drags the washcloth gently over the skin, his gaze darts toward more marks, tiny little blood dots among Sam's pubic hair as though some had actually been pulled out by the root. 

These too seem fresh, tiny scabs of dried blood are raised like perfect miniature tiny marbles against Sam's once beautiful sun-kissed skin, now peppered in more bruises than any hunt gone wrong has ever given them. 

Dean sucks in a ragged, trembling breath as he pulls his head up, letting it fall back for a moment, eyes closing against the horror that is before him. 

Maybe when he opens his eyes it won't be there. Maybe it's all just one great big terrible nightmare. At least that's the small prayer he offers to God, a god he doesn't even really believe in.

Slowly lowering his head, Dean opens his eyes to find it all still there before him, to find that it isn't a nightmare after all, but the truth. Not that he really expected any different.

Sniffling softly, Dean continues to clean Sam up, reaching over to dunk the cloth back in the warm water and ring it out. 

Dean's free hand reaches for Sam's flaccid cock, to hold it as he cleans it with his other hand.

As soon as his finger tips brush against Sam there, Sam cries out, making Dean jump, turning to look up at Sam.

Sam's gulping in breaths, hands fisted in a white knuckled grip in the sheets, neck tilted back, the veins in his neck protruding as he grits his teeth.

"Sammy?" Dean asks.

Sam shakes his head slowly.

"Don't touch me," he cries softly, shoulders shaking, "please don't touch me."

"Sammy, it's just me. It's Dean." Dean tells him softly, pulling his hand away from Sam's cock to grip his hip, rub soothing circles with his thumb against Sam's hipbone.

A hipbone that is protruding way too much for a guy as big as Sam.

Another thing that makes Dean internally cringe and grit his teeth. 

Sam sobs and shakes his head, lip quivering, "I don't care. Don't touch me," he hiccups in a breath, "not there. Not anymore. Not ever." Sam cries softly.

Dean's shattered heart plummets into his boots, his chest aching like a sonuvabitch, as if someone had stabbed him and was now twisting the blade. 

Swallowing hard, Dean nods and clears his throat, "Sorry, Sam, but I gotta."

Dean's expression falls into the same one as when they are on a hunt that neither of them really want to do. The, _'It's the job, gotta do it.'_ look as he turns his attention back and once again reaches for Sam's flaccid cock.

"NO!" Sam screams, but Dean ignores him. Fights to ignore him, to drown out the sound of Sam crying, to forget that he can feel Sam's entire body shaking and trembling. 

Man up, be a good little soldier. That's how he was taught to be, what he was taught to do, and Dean uses that, the information their father drilled into his head all those years. 

Teeth clenched Dean goes to work sponging Sam off, cleaning him thoroughly as he turns his brothers dick this way and that, looking at it, inspecting the wounds on the side, like someone tried to take a goddamn bite out of it.

There is that and the two or three lines across it, from whatever they beat Sam with, but these lines don't look healed like the others, they're still red and swollen, puffy looking and Dean presses one finger against a single line, looking up at Sam's face.

"Does that hurt?" Dean asks him. He knows it's probably a dumbass question, of course it hurts, Sam's entire fucking body probably hurts, but he's trying to figure out if the damn things are infected or not. 

At Sam's lack of any real answer other than his slight thrashing as he sobs, Dean huffs out a breath and releases him. 

Sam doesn't seem to have a fever, so if the wounds are infected they can't be that bad. Okay, another place to put antibacterial salve. 

Lovely. At this rate Sam will be freaking out at least three times a day as Dean cleans his wounds and changes the dressings, reapplies ointment. 

With a sigh, Dean resigns himself to the fact and moves on, running the cloth lower over Sam's balls.

He hears Sam's breath catch in his throat and glances toward him, but Sam seems no worse than he was a second ago, so Dean returns his attention to what he was doing.

"Spread your legs apart more for me, Sam." Dean mumbles, ending up having to move them himself.

The inside of Sam's thighs is red and raw, small sores that remind Dean of saddles sores, the ones you get from riding a horse too long, with your jeans rubbing up against the leather saddle, pepper the inside of his thighs.

Dean grits his teeth so hard it's a wonder he isn't breaking them, grinding enamel against enamel as he can only imagine how the inside of his brother's legs got this way. 

Well, this is it, this is the actual moment Dean had been dreading.

Clearing his throat, Dean glances up at Sam's face. 

"Sam," he says calmly, probably too calmly if the way Sam suddenly go totally ridged means anything.

"I need to look, baby," Dean sighs softly, "I'm sorry, but I do."

Sam starts to cry again and the sobs wrack his frame, but Dean forces himself to move anyway, getting lower so he doesn't have to make Sam lift himself up or god forbid lift his legs, because Dean's not sure either one of them could make it through that.

It's then that a small discolored, bright read area catches Dean's eye and he reaches out to lift Sam's ball sac, that seems to be alright, save for two very very small lines across it that match the slightly larger ones on his cock. Dean's pretty sure they are from the whipping too. 

Lifting Sam's sac, Dean sucks in a loud gasp of breath.

"GOD DAMN SONOFABITCH!...." Dean yells, because if he doesn't he is going to fuckin' erupt right there. Steam coming out of his ears like some goddamn cartoon character. 

Sam jumps and cries harder, flinching away from his brother's touch.

"Oh no, don't you cringe away, Sam! This is not you! Those sonofabitch mother fuckin'..." Dean bellows until he manages to stop himself, lips pressed together, hands that he suddenly and quickly pull back from Sam, clenching into tight white knuckled fists as he hangs his head and squeezes his eyes closed, silently counting to fuckin' one goddamn thousand in his head. 

There under Sam's ball sac is the very visible and very horrible scar from when they had pressed the iron to his flesh, letting Sam's skin burn and sizzle, laughing as he screamed in agony. 

Dean thinks he might just throw up... if he doesn't pass out or kill something first.

"Didn't - didn't want you to see-he-he..." Sam cried brokenly, so much so that it was hard to understand him, his shoulders shaking, head and upper body rolling to one side as he tries to hide his face, his shame from Dean.

Dean licks his lips and forces himself to look back down at the mess that is his brother's flesh, teeth clenched so hard his jaw is aching like a sonofabitch. 

Dean shakes his head, raising one hand to run soothingly over Sam's lower belly. "S'okay, Sam. S'not your fault. Stop crying, baby. It's okay." Dean tells him, his words soft, but angry. 

Angry at the bastards who touched his brother, at God for not doing something about it, at himself for failing and fucking up, for not saving Sam, for not watching him better. 

For not being there when Sam needed him most.

As Dean looks back down, starts to try to see what he can of Sam's hole, of course it isn't working very well, the bed is too soft and Sam isn't helping any. Dean knows he's gonna have to get Sam to roll over onto his side and he already knows what a fight that's gonna be, so he'd rather not deal with it right this second. 

He needs a minute and he knows Sam sure as hell does. 

Blowing out a hot breath, Dean is just about ready to pull away from the bed, when he notices something on Sam's sac that he hadn't before.

Dean frowns, brow creasing as he runs a thumb slowly over it. 

Sam never had a mole here...

Sam jerks a leg up in an automatic 'knee-jerk' move, hissing in a pained and startled breath. Hands reaching for Dean.

"Dean?" Sam whimpers his name, voice scared and unsure.

"Hold on, Sam. S'okay, wanna see somethin'." Dean mutters, taking Sam's balls in both hands and running his fingers over and around the small black nub. 

_The FUCK!?…_

"Ow... ow... ow..." Sam mutters out softly, hissing a breath between his teeth as he again tries to reach for Dean's hands and pull them away, shoulders lifting off the bed in an attempt to do it, though he can't seem to either pick his head up - which worries the hell outta Dean - or he can't keep it up, which isn't much better, so it stays laying back against the pillows as he grapples for Dean's hands.

"Wait, Sam, wait." Dean tells him.

"What the hell is this?" Dean mutters under his breath, reaching underneath Sam's sac directly above the area.

Dean gasps in a breath, gagging and nearly retching as he staggers back and away from Sam abruptly, hand covering his mouth, jade eyes wide.

"Dean?" Sam calls, reaching out toward him, the panic so thick and evident in his voice you'd have to be deaf not to hear it. His entire body is shaking violently, because he knows that something Dean saw on him is what has him this way.

_Ugly. Dirty. Used and disgusting._

Turning, Dean throws open the door and runs out of the room, loud, disgusting gagging and retching, vomiting noises sound from him as he runs toward the bathroom, not making it completely before he's throwing up, the bathroom sink the sad unwitting recipient of his half digested breakfast. 

Sam reaches out toward the open door, screaming for Dean, screaming so loud that his voice goes out and he's gagging, reaching until he nearly falls out of the bed. 

Ellen runs into the bedroom, to find Sam, naked and hanging half out of the bed, his upper body nearly off onto the floor as Sam cries and gags, sucking in ragged shaky breaths, nearly upside down.

Bobby's in the bathroom in a flash checking on Dean who can't seem to stop shaking and puking, tears streaking down his face, both from the force of his stomach retching and from crying at the horrible abuse his brother obviously suffered. 

"What the hell is goin' on here!?" Bobby demands, once he's seen that Dean won't die from whatever it is that's happening.

Ellen grabs Sam, struggling to pull his six foot, four inch frame, or at least half of it, back into the bed. 

"Sam, what happened? What's wrong?" Ellen asks him, but Sam's nearly out of his mind wailing in grief and shame.

After a few more times at retching, his stomach having emptied itself of it's contents, his hands braced on the counter shaking uncontrollably, Dean manages to lift his head and look at Bobby in the mirror. "Those bastards," he panted out weakly, "pierced my brother's fucking balls."


	5. Chapter 5

"Son of a bitch!" Ellen ground out, picking Sam's flailing top half back up, though he was like a dead weight, not helping her at all as he sobbed. 

"Can someone get their ass in here and help me, goddammit!?" she yells, head turned toward the open door.

Jo appears in the doorway, gasping in a shocked breath as she takes in the scene before her.

"Jo, go get more of that sedative!" Ellen barks out the commend, "NOW!"

Jo's gaze moves from Sam to meet her mothers gaze a second before she runs from the doorway.

Ellen knows that it hasn't been that damn long since Bobby gave Sam the first shot, but Sam's a big guy and it obviously didn't calm him down much, at least not for long. The dose was likely too small for him.

Pressing Sam's upper body back against the pillows, Ellen tries to tame his flailing arms, ending up with a punch to the jaw for her efforts.

Ellen's head snaps to the side as she opens her mouth on a pained scoff. "Shit!" she hisses out softly, before turning hr head back, her attention on Sam once again, hands grabbing his wrists to pin them against the bed as best as she can, which isn't very well.

Even is Sam's weakened state, his panic and fear has made adrenaline surge through his body and he's much stronger.

Reaching down, Ellen grabs a handful of sheets and blanket and pulls them up Sam's body. 

They're still a rumpled mess, not smoothed out, more a ball of material than anything, but at least it's covering him sort of.

His groin and part of a leg now hidden from view. 

Lifting a leg, knee on the mattress, she brings the other up to join it before swinging the first over Sam's body, straddling him so she can use her full weight in her arms to pin his.

Sam continues to cry, fighting against her hold as if he thinks she is going to hurt him and Ellen knows it's everything he's been through that's doing it, hates that she has to hold him still now, but at the rate he was goin' if she doesn't, she's afraid he's going to hurt himself.

"Hurry the hell up with that, Joanna Beth!" she yells as she turns her head toward the door.

Jo rushes into the room, syringe and alcohol swabs in hand.

Hurrying over to the side of the bed, her gaze meets her mothers and Ellen shakes her head at Jo as her hands fight to keep Sam still.

"You have to do it, Jo! I can't give it to him and hold him!" Ellen tells her, voiced raised above the sound of Sam's sobs and screams for Dean.

Sam nearly succeeds in getting an arm free making Ellen swear softly under her breath, her hands grappling to get his arm pressed back against the bed.

Moving a knee to Sam's forearm, Ellen uses her body weight to pin it down effectively and nods at Jo. 

"Now! Do it!" she nods at the arm she has pinned, "That one!"

Jo nods, her hands are shaking, as she gets the needle uncapped and swabs off Sam's arm.

She's never seen Sam like this before, has never seen either of the boys this upset, this far gone and she can't help the mild shock that has set into her body, her dark eyes wide as she works.

Jabbing the needle in as fast as she can, Jo injects the medication, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she wishes she could get the damn stuff to go in faster, for all their sakes.

*

"What the hell are you sayin'?" Bobby asks Dean, his gaze unflinching, locked on Dean's in the mirror.

Dean gives a small nod, before turning around to look directly into Bobby's eyes, "Yeah, pierced him." 

With a huff, Dean shakes his head and moves to brush past Bobby, heading back toward the bedroom.

"I gotta get that damn thing out." Dean mutters, half under his breath.

"Hey, Bobby get me the med kit, huh?" Dean calls back over his shoulder, though he continues toward the bedroom, where he can still hear Sam crying. 

*

The medicine is finally in and Jo pulls the needle out, replacing it with another alcohol swab, whispering to Sam that it's okay, though more than likely he can't even hear her through his tears.

Ellen nods to Jo, who takes a step back away from the bed, enough so Ellen can pull her knee off Sam's arm then swing her leg out from around him, dropping it back off onto the floor. 

The way a person would get off of a motorcycle, one knee still on the side of the mattress.

Dean stops at the door of the room, looking from Sam to Ellen and Jo and back.

"What the hell's going on!?" he demands, going straight for Sam, not even bothering with walking around the bed, but climbing up the end and crawling on hands and knees up to him.

"Sammy, Sammy, s'okay, I gotcha." Dean tells him softly, pulling Sam into his arms.

Sam clings to Dean, hands fisting in his shirt, face buried against his neck.

"Don't leave me, don't leave me, please don't leave me." Sam tells him brokenly, voice breathless from all the crying, small and soft. 

"Shshsh, s' okay, Sammy. S'okay." Dean repeats, one hand going to Sam's head, digits tangling in his soft chestnut hair.

Dean narrows his eyes at Ellen and Jo, "What the hell happened in here!?"

Ellen gives Dean a look that says she is more than a little irritated, "Funny, I was gonna ask you the same damn thing!"

Dean huffs softly, tearing his gaze from her to look toward Sam's face still buried against his neck, "Shshsh, I gotcha, bro, I gotcha."

Looking back at Ellen and Jo, Dean narrows his eyes angrily again, "I - we," he huffs, "nothing. I just got sick and had to leave him." Dean spats before pressing his lips together in a thin line, "S'nothin'."

Ellen's eyes narrow as she takes a step back over to the bed, "You listen to me, Dean Winchester," she hisses, glancing at Sam, before her angry dark chocolate hued orbs meet Dean's jade ones again, "I don't know what the hell happened in here, but you had that boy so friggin' upset it wasn't even funny! Hell, Jo and I had to give him more sedative! Now, you wanna tell me what the hell it was all about, or do you want me to assume the worst and just beat the dog shit outta ya now?"

Dean huffs out a breath, his eyes closing as he tries to decide what and how much he should tell Ellen.

Sam shakes his head slightly against Dean's neck, his crying now having reduced down to just hiccupped gasps of breath, his body trembling as he clings to Dean. 

"D - don't," Sam tries to say, only to hiccup in a breath, "don't tell her what - what," another hiccupped breath, "you found," a small whine tears from Sam's throat as a tear runs down his face, "please." he adds his voice whisper soft. 

"Shshsh," Dean tries to sooth him, holding tighter, his arm around Sam gripping harder, the one in his hair tangling deeper into the soft strands. 

Returning his gaze to Ellen, Dean gave a small barely there shake of his head, "I was checking Sam over and he got upset. It's as simple as that, Elle." Dean tells her point blank, giving her a look that begs her not to question him further.

Ellen's hard angry look slowly begins to melt away as she glances at Sam, then looks back at Dean and gives him a nod. "Alright, if - if you need anything..." Ellen tells Dean, letting her sentence trail off.

Dean nods to her as he releases the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

It's then that Bobby walks into the room, Med Kit in hand, his eyes on Dean, who nods to him and juts his chin toward the dresser at the foot of the bed.

Bobby places the Kit down, and returns his gaze to Dean, shaking his head.

"I dunno about this, Dean." Bobby tells him.

"Well, I do. Needs to be done." Dean tells him.

Bobby sighs and glances toward Ellen and Jo, "Let's give these boys some privacy." 

Ellen looks from the Med Kit to Bobby, then Dean, but to her credit, she doesn't ask, only nods to Jo to leave.

One by one they all file out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. 

Dean watches the door close before tearing his gaze away to look down toward Sam's face, though he can't see it buried against his neck. 

"Sammy, s'okay, man." Dean tells him softly, "I'm sorry I had to run out like that, I just," Dean pauses, gritting his teeth for a moment as he tries to decide what to say, what not to say. 

Dean clears his throat and swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, "I think I'm comin' down with somethin'." he lies smoothly.

Sam hiccups in a breath against Dean's neck,his head shaking slightly, "Liar." Sam says, the word mumbled against Dean's flesh.

Dean sighs softly, jade eyes slowly closing.

_Yeah, I am, Sammy._

Long golden brown lashes flutter as Dean slowly opens his eyes again, shuffling Sam in his arms as he tries to get him to lay down against the bed, pulling him onto his side against him as Dean slides down to laying on his side too, facing Sam. 

Licking his lips, Dean searches Sam's face.

He can see how much more relaxed his brother seems to be now.

Is pretty damn certain it isn't of his own ability, but drug induced, and Dean can't help thinking how that's a good thing, how it will help them out as he works on Sam. 

Reaching a hand up to smooth back a strand of Sam's hair, a bit of his long bangs that has fallen over his face, Dean presses his lips together tightly steeling himself, preparing himself for what comes next, what he has to say, has to do.

"Sammy, I - I need to finish, baby." Dean tells him softly.

Sam lay on his side, hands fisted in Dean's shirt, head turned, facing him. 

Licking his lips, Sam raised his brows, "Hmm?"

Yeah, the drugs were working. 

Thank God.

Dean sighed softly, feeling horrible that he had to say this, do this.

But, before he did, he wanted Sam to understand, was sure that if he didn't, what he was going to do would be just that much worse for Sam.

"I have to finish checking you over, clean your wounds." Dean told him, "I'll try to be as fast as I can be,"he paused, jade orbs searching Sam's face, "Okay?"

Sam pressed his lips together, brow furrowing as if Dean's words confused him.

"I -" Sam shook his head slowly, "I don't want you to."

Dean nodded, "I know, Sammy, but I gotta. Just let me finish and then we'll be all done." Dean encouraged softly, fingertips running over the same area, smoothing back hair already smoothed back, the action soothing, though Dean wasn't sure who it was soothing more, Sam or himself.

Sam's lips curve down into a frown, his bottom lip quivering as he shakes his head, "No, s' dirty, M' so dirty."

Dean's breath leaves him in a near rush as he bites back a sob, his own bottom lip quivering as he looks at Sam's broken face, tears stinging his eyes. "No," Dean whispers out brokenly as he shakes his head, "you're not." 

Sam squeezes his already closed eyes tighter closed as he presses his lips together in a firm line as he chokes back a sob. 

Dean sniffles softly, as he gives Sam a determined and sure look.

His brother is not dirty and they can do this. 

Do it and get past it so Sam can heal. 

Sam's tongue darts out to lick his lips.

He can feel the sting of tears in his eyes, can feel how they are starting to over flow with them again, but he's trying to contain them, to be strong, to not let them out.

With a curt nod, Sam releases a hot breath through parted lips, "Okay."

Dean sighed softly, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto. "Okay." he whispers back, leaning in to brush his lips against Sam's forehead.

**_"I think I've walked to close to love and now I'm fallin' in.  
I felt so many things this weary soul can't take. Maybe you just caught me by surprise, the first time that I looked in your eyes..."_ **

Dean slowly moves his hands, reaching to grasp Sam's wrists, pulling his hands free of his tee. 

"S'okay, Sammy." Dean tells him softly as he lays Sam's hands down against the mattress, then moves, rolling and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pulling to his feet.

Dean turns back to Sam, reaching out to arrange him the way Dean wants him.

Pulling one of Sam's legs up slightly, as he hooks a hand under Sam's knee, so that it lays bent over his other leg which remains straight as Sam lays there on his side. 

The action covering Sam's groin with the thigh of his bent leg.

It's alright, that's not the part Dean is going to deal with first. He knows what he needs to fix, work on there, what he needs to know is about Sam's backside. 

He'll check that first, then worry about the piercing. 

One thing at a time.

Baby steps.

One hand laying against Sam's thigh, Dean reaches with the other to pull up the sheet, covering his brother a little as he pulls his hand from his leg.

"Stay just like that, Sam. Just like that." Dean tells him softly.

Sam nods his head, lips pressed together, before they part on a breath of air. 

Dean turns to walk away, to the Med Kit and the items he'll need, when Sam reaches out with one hand, grasping for him and finding the hem of his shirt, then his wrist, his hand, which he holds in his for a moment, not speaking.

"M'sorry." Sam whispers finally.

Dean looks down at Sam, frowning, brow furrowed in confusion.

_He's sorry?_

Dean shakes his head, his hand squeezing Sam's, "Nothin' to apologise for, Sammy." Dean tells him softly then slowly releases the grip he has on Sam's hand, pulling his hand away.

"Let's get this over with, 'kay?" Dean suggests softly before turning and walking to the dresser.

**_"...And there's a life inside of me that I can feel again.  
It's the only thing that takes me where I have never been. I don't care if I lost everything that I have known. It don't matter where I lay my head tonight, your arms feel like home, feel like home…_ **

Opening the kit, Dean gathered supplies and a couple pairs of rubber gloves, then headed to the opposite side of the bed from where Sam was facing. 

Crouching beside the bed, Dean laid the items he brought back with him on the mattress next to him and reached up, placing a hand on Sam's back.

Sam jumped at the contact, drawing in a small sharp breath.

"S'okay, Sammy. S'okay, it's just me. You're okay, man." Dean told him gently, as he reached with his free hand to push the sheet up a little more out of his way.

Sam presses his lips together tightly, nostrils flaring, eyes squeezing tighter closed as he nods, a soft whimper sounding deep in his throat.

Dean blew out a hot breath, returning the nod that Sam couldn't see before tearing his gaze away and looking down at Sam's back. 

Dean's gaze slowly sliding along Sam's skin, taking in every wound, every change in Sam's body.

The way Sam's shoulder blades protrude a little too much now, the fact that Dean can almost count the disks in his brother's spine.

The bed sores that peppered Sam's lower back, though thankfully they didn't seem as red as they had been the night Dean had found him.

Or was that only Dean's wishful thinking?

Wishing, wanting, needing a glimmer of light in all this darkness.

**_"...This life ain't the fairy tale we both thought it would be.  
But I can see your smiling face as it's staring back at me. And I know we both see these changes now. I know we both understand somehow..." ~ Your Arms Feel Like Home, 3 Doors Down. _ **

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

Dean blew out a hot breath, his eyes closing as he slowly lowered his head, forehead against Sam's side, hands braced flat on the mattress. 

Dean could only imagine how Sam was feeling, because even he himself didn't want to do this. 

Didn't want to upset his brother more.

Didn't want to send him spiraling away from him, into darkness where Dean had to fight and claw to be able to grab Sam once more and slowly pull him out. 

Selfishly, he also didn't think he really wanted to know.

Sam swallows hard, lips parting before he licks them, "D - Dean?" 

Fear and uncertainty, thick in Sam's quiet voice, pulls Dean out of his own darkness.

_Man up. Be a good soldier. Do what needs doing._

Dean slowly pulls his head up as he opens his eyes.

"Yeah, Sam, s' okay. Just giving you a minute." Dean tells him softly.

Sam nods, hands trembling as they slowly slide along the mattress, fingers pulling, twisting in the sheets as he closes his hands into fists. 

"I'm - I'm okay." Sam managed to tell him, voice barely above a whisper.

Dean gives a small nod. 

_Doin' better than I am then._

"Okay." Dean mutters in answer, turning his attention to the supplies he brought over.

Reaching over, Dean grabs the first rubber glove and starts to pull it on his hand, his concentration fixed on just that task. 

Just get the gloves on his hands. 

That's it.

Baby steps.

Once he has them both on, he wishes he hadn't been able to do it so fast and for one crazy moment actually considers taking them back off and redoing it, just to kill more time. 

But, the logical part of his brain, the part that knows this needs to be done and the sooner the better, won't allow him to hide behind menial tasks that he has already finished.

So, Dean turns his attention back to Sam, one hand grabbing the tube of KY Jelly he brought over to the bed with him. 

"Okay, Sam," Dean begins as he flips the top of the KY open and starts squeezing out a liberal amount onto the fingers of his opposite hand, "this might be a little cold, but I gotta see what damage there is." Dean tells him with a sigh.

"Alright?" Dean asks, as he flips the top of the KY closed and deposits it back onto the bed.

Sam sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, but doesn't say anything, doesn't move for a long moment and Dean waits.

Fear, cold and hard grips hold of Sam's insides, making his breaths quicken, his hands shake more. 

Dirty. 

He's just so damn dirty.

And there's no soap strong enough to clean this dirt, this film away, to ever get him clean again. 

Tears fill his closed eyes, even as he tries not to let them fall, biting back the sob that burns his throat. 

Finally, Sam releases his lip, licking them. "What - what are you gonna do?" he asks softly already knowing the answer and dreading it, silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

Dean pauses, his hands hovering above Sam's ass.

Dean licks his lips as he looks up toward Sam's head and sighs.

"I'm, uh, I'm just gonna..." Dean stammers, trying to figure out what the hell to say. 

Aw, FUCK!

"I gotta see, Sam. I gotta know how bad it is." Dean tells him firmly though his voice is soft. 

A soft sob escapes Sam, his shoulders shaking with it, though he doesn't pull away, doesn't move. 

Dean's shattered heart constricts, but he buries it down, hides the pain away and turns it into anger, into fuel to get the job done.

Just like he always has.

Just like dad taught him.

Tearing his gaze away from Sam's head, Dean looks back down and rolls his shoulders, face set in determined lines.

"Just hold still, it'll be over soon." Dean mumbles as he reaches down, unlubed fingers slowly, gently spreading Sam's ass cheeks revealing reddened tender flesh, swollen and raw with small tears here and there dotting his opening. 

_"Just hold still, it'll be over soon..." "Just hold still, it'll be over soon..." "Just hold still, it'll be over soon..."_

Those words run over and over again through Sam's head.

Dean's voice.

Skinny's voice.

The leader's voice.

Other voices that blend and bleed together.

Sam's face crumbles, a long low whine leaving him before he starts to cry in earnest again, shoulders shaking. 

Dean pauses, head lifting as he glances toward Sam's head.

"It's just me, Sam. It's just me." Dean tells him in hopes of calming the tremors he can feel wracking his brother's body.

 _No, no, it's just Dean. Just Dean. Just Dean. It's just Dean._ Sam tells himself over and over again like a mantra.

**_"...There's a life inside of me that I can feel again. It's the only thing that takes me where I've never been. I don't care if I lost everything that I have known. It don't matter where I lay my head tonight, you're arms feel like home. Hold me, you're home to me, just hold on, you're home to me." ~ You're Arms Feel Like Home, 3 Doors Down._ **

A soft whine breaks from Sam's throat before he nods to Dean's words.

His attention back on what he is doing, Dean narrows his eyes slightly as he lets out a hot breath, one lubed finger running slowly, gently around the puckered skin of Sam's hole. 

Sam's entire body jerks and Dean looks up quickly.

"S'okay, Sam. It's me, just me. You're alright." Dean tells him.

Sam's breaths pant out through parted lips, body trembling as his hands tighten their hold in the sheets. 

"No," Sam whimpers softly, "please stop."

"Sam, it's okay, it's just me. It's Dean." Dean tells him softly as his finger slowly slides just inside.

Dean already has it in his head not to push his finger very deep into Sam, just enough to feel for damage, to see if he, God forbid, brings back blood when he pulls his finger out. 

_The dirty mattress sagged a bit more as added weight joined Sam's own._

_"No, please, no more." Sam whimpered softly._

_"Shshsh, just gonna put somethin' on that burn." It was Skinny._

_Sam's head turned, jerky movements against the cot as he tugged at the chains, still pulled taunt._

_"No," Sam croaked out, trying to move away from his probing hands, fingers, "don't touch me."_

_Sam could feel Skinny's fingers against his ass, his hole, slipping up under his balls and down again._

_Slow lingering movements._

_Dirty, so fuckin' dirty._

_"No! No! Stop it! Please, stop." Sam begged, voice soft and rough, raw from screaming._

Sam starts to try to roll over, roll onto his back, hands reaching up to pull his body up on the bed, trying to get away from Dean's probing finger. 

"No, no, please stop! Please, stop!" Sam mumbles out, head and shoulders lifted up off the pillows as he starts puling himself upward, body sliding against cool clean white sheets.

Dean jerks his head up, eyes wide. 

"No, Sam! Don't move!" he barks out the order and Sam freezes.

Sam's arms are trembling as he holds onto the headboard, holding himself half up by it, pulled higher on the bed.

Hanging his head, Sam licks his lips and lets out a breath. "Dean?"

_Dean. It's Dean. Just Dean._

Dean slowly pulls his finger out of Sam's ass and pulls to his full height standing beside the bed. 

"Yeah, baby, s'me. Just me." Dean tells him softly, working off the gloves. 

He figures Sam needs a minute before he continues, he knows he sure as hell does.

Inside of Sam's ass had felt like a road map of ridged scar tissue and the tip of his gloved finger had come back with a small amount of blood on it. 

None of which were things Dean wanted to find. 

Not that he should have been surprised he supposed, after all, Sam had been fuckin' used and abused for a goddamn year. 

_A year._

A year that he should have done better. 

Dean finishes pulling off the gloves and tosses them into the nearby waste basket with a huff.

Sam needs him, he can't give in to the guilt and pain tumbling and churning inside of him, not now, not yet.

Dean moves onto the bed slowly, reaching for Sam, prying loose his grip on the headboard. 

"S'okay, Sam. I gotcha. I gotcha." Dean tells him softly, pulling Sam over, onto his back and into his arms so Dean can hold him, just hold onto Sam for a little while before he has to finish this.

Neither moved, as Dean held onto his brother, Sam's face tucked in against Dean's neck, breathing in the scent that was home, safety, Dean.

Sam's hands gripping at his brother's shoulders, Dean's arms wrapped tightly around him as he felt his brother's warm tears splash against his skin. 

**_"When I think back on these times and the dreams we left behind. I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed to get to have you in my life  
When I look back on these days, I'll look and see your face  
You were right there for me..."_ **

Sam's calm even breathing pushed Dean into moving, looking over toward his brother's face as he pulled his own head back slightly so he could try to see him, see if he was asleep. 

Not that he would really know since Sam's eyes were always closed.

"Sammy? Baby?" Dean whispered softly, moving just a little to try and sit up more.

Sam sniffled, lips pressing together, "Mm? Yeah?" Sam asked sleepily.

Dean raised a hand to cup the back of Sam's head for a moment before pulling it away with a sigh.

"I need to get up, baby. Got somethin' else I gotta do first, then you can sleep." Dean told him softly.

Sam's brows furrowed as he frowned softly, "More?" he asked in obvious confusion.

Dean pressed his lips together, steeling himself for what he had to do and gave a slight nod.

"Yeah, baby. One more thing." Dean told him as he eased out from under Sam and climbed out of the bed.

Sam rolled over, sniffling sleepily as he raised a hand, rubbing the heel of it against an eye.

Habit.

"What - what do you need to do?" Sam asked his brother, frowning again. 

Dean reached for the second pair of gloves laying on the bed and quickly started to pull them on. 

Once those were on, Dean grabbed up the bottle of betadine along with the swabs.

Dean sat down on the end of the bed facing Sam as he slid all the items he would need closer, his gaze flickering up to Sam's face briefly, before he lowered it again back to aligning the items he needed.

Arranging them much more neatly than necessary.

Dean grit his teeth so hard it was a wonder he didn't break any.

_What the hell do I say?_

"I need," Dean paused and cleared his throat so his voice didn't sound so raw, "I need to take out the damn piercing."

Sam frowned, "Piercing? Where? What do you mean?" Sam asked him.

Dean's head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he didn't snap a few vertebrae, his eyes wide and intent on Sam's face.

_He didn't know?_

"Those bastards, they…" Dean pressed his lips together, nearly shaking with uncontrolled rage. 

_Breathe, Dean. Just breathe. Count backward from ten. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one._

"There is a small black plastic piercing in you, Sam. I'm taking the damn thing outta your fuckin' nuts because it sure as hell doesn't belong there and all it's gonna do is remind you of… of…" Dean grit is teeth.

_Of when I fucked up, let you down. Failed._

Sam lay stock still, lips parted in absolute shock and horror as he 'looked' down at his brother, unable to see him, unable to see his own violation. 

Understanding now what had Dean running out of the room.

Knowing just how used he was.

How disgustingly dirty.

Sam's face crumbled in what appeared to be slow motion before a sob tore from his throat, face tilting upward toward the ceiling before his sobs shook his shoulders, mouth open as he cried in earnest.

Dean sighed, slowly tearing his gaze, blurred by unshed tears away and looked back down. 

"Sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered softly, shaking his head, "So sorry."

Dean reached for Sam, gloved fingertips brushing against his flesh.

Sam jerked away from the touch, "No! Don't touch me!!! Don't fuckin' touch me!!!" Sam screamed. 

Dean pulled back with a sigh, "Sam -"

"No! No! Don't touch me!!! Don't, Dean!" Sam grit his teeth, shaking his head. 

"Oh God..." Sam cried softly, revulsion at himself had him nearly gagging. 

How could Dean stand to touch him?

Be in the same room with him?

"Let me die," Sam cried softly, head rolling on the pillow, "You should’a let me die!!!"

Dean clenched his jaw, glaring angrily at his brother, "Sam, stop it! Stop it right now!!!" Dean yelled back at him, choking back his own tears.

**_"...In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky. In my heart there will always be a place for you for all my life. I'll keep a part of you with me and everywhere I am, There you'll be, And everywhere I am, There you'll be. Well you showed me how it feels to feel the sky within my reach, And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me. Your love made me make it through, Oh, I owe so much to you  
You were right there for me, 'Cause I always saw in you, My light, my strength, and I want to thank you, Now for all the ways you were right there for me you were right there for me, For always. ~ There You'll Be, Faith Hill _ **


	6. Chapter 6

Tears burn and sting Dean's eyes as he looks up at his brother, his lover's face and shakes his head slowly.

"Don't you ever say that, Sam. Not ever." Dean tells him softly through gritted teeth as a tear slowly makes it's way down Dean's cheek.

Sam throws an arm over his face, the other he holds out, hand up to Dean in a 'stop' sign, head shaking under his arm. 

"No, Sam, I'm not gonna stop, I'm gonna take care of you," Dean tells him, tearing his gaze away from his brother's face, forcing himself to look down, to concentrate on what he needs to do, has to do. 

The arm Sam was holding out falls to the bed almost limply as if in defeat.

"Gonna take care of you like I always have, like I should have a fucking year ago." Dean growls softly through gritted teeth, half to himself as he reaches over grabbing up the betadine and a swab, pouring some of the dark liquid out onto it before lowering the swab to the plastic piercing at Sam's sac.

"It's just antiseptic, Sammy. Cold. I'm sorry." Dean mumbles out, not looking up, even as Sam's body jerks, his arm falling away from his face as his tears fall freely, the sound of Sam's crying filling the room.

**_“…always something special, Diamond shining bright in the rain. Everybody dreams of angels. No one would ever know, how much I love you so. Now it all seems funny, kinda like a dream, Things ain’t always what they seem, what a shame, what happened today. You were always on my mind, Shine like a summer day in the sun. Slowly wishes turn to sadness, Time don’t heal a broken gun I wish I never let you go, Even now I just want you to know that it all seems funny, kinda like a dream, Things ain’t always what they seem What a shame, what happened today…” ~ Ballad of Jayne, L.A. Guns_ **

_They all stood around him, not that Sam could see any of them, but he could hear them, pick each of them out by the sound of their voice, their laughter._

_"Hey, did ya hear about the guy who got his balls pierced?"_

_"What the hell are you talkin' about, Sonny?"_

_"That guy, some damn queer went an got his balls pierced."_

_Laughter sounded around him._

_"That musta hurt like a son-of-a-fuckin' bitch, stupid faggot."_

_More laughter._

_"I wonder what that'ad be like, gettin' yer balls pierced..."_

_"Well, why don' ya find out, Sonny?"_

_Rounds of laughter._

_"I ain't no queer, an' I ain't that damn dumb."_

_"He is... such a good fuckin bitch. He's got ta be a damn queer."_

_Snickers and hoots._

_Sam struggled as his legs were grabbed._

_Hands, arms, so many, holding his legs down, then straps, some kind of straps, fastening his legs sprawled wide on the bed, feet handing off onto the floor, thighs spread as wide as they could go._

_"No! No, stop! Stop!" Sam yelled._

_Sadly he wasn't aware of what they were about to do, hadn't added together what they were talking about and what they were about to do to him... not yet._

_"Don't do this, don't do this! No more, please! Oh God, please!" Sam grit his teeth as tears stung his eyes._

_He jerked and tugged at the chains, the straps on his legs._

_Something hard and square... wood, was shoved up against his ass, his balls grabbed and lifted up onto it, laid against it._

_"What - what...?" Sam started, head thrashing as he struggled more. "No! No! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"_

_Hands, fingers, touching him, squeezing is balls until he was nearly ready to scream, his stomach hurting as if someone had just kicked him in it._

_Deep groans, growls of pain falling from his lips as his head tilted back._

_Hand pulled his balls, separating them, working the sac._

_Voices, telling each other how to do it, snickering and making more jokes against him. Laughter._

_Sam's drugged mind tried to keep up with it all, but his entire world was nothing but pain and fear, no other thoughts or feelings seemed to break through the fog in his head save for one... **Dean.** _

_"Please, don't..." Sam mumbled, voice softer as tears started to fall, sliding back into his hair._

_And then something cold was pressed against his sac, cold and hard and sharp._

"Please, don't," Sam whimpers, head rolling.

"S'okay, Sammy," Dean mumbles as he works to sterilize the piercing.

"Not again," Sam cries softly, "please not again."

Dean doesn't understand the true meaning of those words, doesn't understand that Sam is stuck back in the grips of his own hell. 

"Sam, I have to do this. I told you." Dean mumbles as he sets down the betadine and swabs now that he's satisfied he has it as clean as necessary. 

Glancing up toward Sam's face, Dean takes a deep breath.

"Just hold still, Sammy," He gives Sam a small nod of encouragement Sam can't see. "It'll be over in just a second." Dean tells him, returning is attention to what he is doing, what he has to do.

Grabbing the front of the small plastic piercing, Dean reaches under with his other hand, gripping it from that side.

Fingertips press hard against the piercing that is nearly flush with Sam's flesh, short blunt nails nearly cutting into him, but Dean can't help it, doesn't realize it as he just works to get a good grip on the piercing.

"No, no, no, no..." Sam mumbles out the word, over and over like some sad prayer, his head thrashing. 

"Here goes, Sam." Dean mumbles before he starts to pull apart the piercing. 

Sam gasps in a breath, just before he feels it.

Pain, again.

His mind doesn't seem to have the ability to remember if it is exactly the same pain, at least not at the moment, only that there is pain, again... 

_Before Sam had a change to wonder what the hell it was, what they were doing, searing pain shot through his balls, his groin, up into his stomach, causing him to gag as he screamed._

_"Harder dammit, press harder until it comes out the other side!"_

Sam grit his teeth, pained grunts leaving him, his breaths panting out in fear before his head tilted back and he screamed, hands curled into tight fists, muscles locked, his face flushed, tears rolling down from his eyes into his hair. 

Somewhere in all the pain, real and remembered, Sam's eyes opened to mere tiny slits of hazel, his world a blur of light and not much more.

Eyes squeezing closed once more Sam sobbed, crying in pain, in heartbreak for what his world had become, had narrowed down to.

Ugly, ugly horrible moments and nothing more. 

He couldn't seem to remember good times anymore. 

Only misery. 

Only pain.

Only violation. 

Dirty, so fuckin' dirty. 

_Sam didn't stop screaming until they finally released him._

_He lays whimpering on the filthy bed as one of them said something about blood and the mess he had made._

_It was the last thing Sam remembered as merciful blackness took him under._

Dean drew back, breathing heavily himself as though he had just ran for miles. 

"I - I got it, Sam. I got it." Dean tells him, holding his hands up, the plastic pieces between the thumb and forefinger of each, though Sam was unable to see the gesture. 

His gaze goes from one hand to the other and Dean nearly smiles, proud of himself of a job completed, that he got that damn thing out of his brother, his Sammy. 

Looking back toward Sam, Dean swallows hard. "I got it." he repeats softer, nearly to himself, the almost smile falling from his face as he takes in the sight of Sam laying there sobbing.

The small shards of Dean's heart that are left squeeze horribly tight, making his chest ache like a sonuvabitch as his chin starts to quiver, tears filling his eyes.

Sam! Oh shit, oh shit! Sammy!

**_"Come into these arms again and lay your body down. The rhythm of this trembling heart is beating like a drum. It beats for you, it bleeds for you, it knows not how it sounds. For it is the drum of drums, it is the song or songs. Once I had the rarest rose, that ever dared to bloom. Cruel winder chilled the bud and stole my flower too soon. Oh loneliness... Oh hopelessness..." ~ Love song for a Vampire, Annie Lennox_ **

Dean doesn't hesitate, but moves toward the bed as he pulls at the rubber gloves, the piercing pieces all but forgotten as he tugs the gloves off and tosses them onto the floor, crawling up the bed to Sam. 

Reaching Sam, Dean slips his arms around his brother and pulls him into his arms, holding him tightly, rocking back and forth, his face tucked against Sam's neck, lips pressing there in a lingering broken kiss before he pulls his head back to look at Sam's face.

"M'sorry, Sammy. M'so sorry, baby. I gotcha, I gotcha." Dean tells him anxiously, voice soft as tears roll down his own cheeks.

Dean's arms move from around Sam, hands going to cup Sam's cheeks, looking into his brother's wrecked face. "S'okay, Sammy, It's over, baby, it's over." Dean tells him softly.

Jade orbs search his brother's face before he leans in, brushing his lips across Sam's. "God, I love you." Dean whispers softly, pulling Sam in and wrapping his arms back around him, holding him tightly.

Sam's head turns, burying his face against Dean's neck as he hiccups in ragged breaths.

**_"Till my body is dust, till my soul is no more, I will love you, love you... Till the sun starts to cry and the moon starts to rust, I will love you, love you. But I need to know, will you stay for all time, forever and a day? Then I'll give my heart till the end of all time, forever and a day..." ~ I Will Love You, Fisher_ **

Dean sniffles as he pulls one hand from around Sam, sliding it between them against Sam's lower belly.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to hurt you?"

Yeah, he's rambling and he knows it, but this was almost as hard on him as it was Sam, not that he would ever admit it, not that he would agree. 

Sam presses his lips together, a pained groan sounding deep in his throat that he tries to cut the sound off of.

"Mm, yeah, m'okay." Sam mutters between hiccuped breaths.

"Lair." Dean mumbles as he lowers is head, lips against Sam's collar bone. 

Sam makes a small sound and Dean's not sure if it's a pained one or if it was suppose to be some sort of laugh.

Dean pulls his head back, forcing Sam to lift his head, jade orbs studying his brother's face.

It's then that Dean notices for the first time that Sam has his eyes open just a tiny bit, mere slits of hazel showing. 

"Sammy, oh God, Sammy, your eyes." Dean breaths the words, feeling as though he has just witnessed a miracle.

Sam licks his lips, the tiny slits of hazel closing and opening once more.

"Yeah," he shakes his head slightly, "I still can't see much," Sam tells him softly, "light." giving a small nod.

Dean shakes his head slowly, a smile pulling at his lips, "It's awesome, man. It's still awesome." Dean tells him, before pulling his brother back in for a tight hug.

"More will come later," Dean murmured softly, nodding as he held onto Sam, "It will." Dean assured him.

Sam sucks in a pained breath through his teeth as his brother holds onto him, only half hearing his words as he tries not to make a show of the pain he is in, trying to control his body.

Dean pulled back, his hand once again sliding between them to Sam's lower stomach as he watched Sam's face.

Sam jerks away slightly at Dean's touch, a look of pain crossing his face, before he can quickly hide it away.

Dean's heart plummets as he looks at Sam, panic and worry twisting their way around to coil in is belly, his chest.

"Where does it hurt? Is it - what I -" Dean stammers, eyes wide and full of worry.

Sam shakes his head slightly, "No, I-" Sam swallows and bites his lip, "I need to pee." 

Dean nearly chokes on the near laugh that starts to bubble out of him. 

"Pee?" Dean asks.

Sam nods, "Yeah, sorry, but I-"

"Sorry? What the hell are you sorry for?" Dean asks him before glancing down as he realizes for the first time how hard and distended Sam's lower belly actually seems to be.

Dean's gaze snaps back up to Sam's face, "How long have you had to take a piss!?"

Sam shakes his head, "Yesterday, I guess..."

Dean's eyes widened, "Sam! ...the HELL!?" 

Sam's mouth opens and closes as he shook his head, "I didn't want to - I mean, the bed... and I -" Sam stammered nervously.

Dean shakes his head, teeth clenched together, "Sam," he sighs before turning to swing his legs over the side of the bed, pulling to his feet. 

"Come on, let's get you to the bathroom." Dean said, reaching out for his brother.

Sam presses his lips together, his legs sliding slowly toward the edge of the bed.

"Here, lemme -" Dean starts as he steps closer, sliding an arm under Sam's knees, one behind his back.

"Dean, you can't -" Sam starts, only to have Dean interrupt him as he lifts him into his arms.

"I did it when I brought you home," Dean grunts out, "but I think you were less heavy then."

"Adrenaline." Sam mumbles burying his face against Dean's neck, his head laying on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his brother.

"And a gallon of piss in your bladder." Dean adds with a huff, rolling his eyes, before he turns, heading toward the bedroom door.

The Bedroom door opens and Dean steps out, carrying a very naked Sam.

Jo gasps, her eyes wide as she looks up from where she is standing in the kitchen with her mom and Bobby.

Spinning quickly on her heel, she turns away from the sight. 

"Jesus, Dean!" she spats.

Dean doesn't even look over or acknowledge her as he continues walking, head bowed slightly as he murmurs softly to Sam.

Dean's words aren't really very clear, and pretty much nonsense but that's not what's important, they are small encouragements and loving words meant to give Sam strength and comfort and Sam devours each and everyone of them.

Turning slightly sideways, Dean enters the bathroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

Bobby looks from the site of the boys, the now closed bathroom door over to Ellen.

"Well, there was a site, I was hoping to never see again." Bobby tells her matter - of -factly, eyes rolling before he raises the bottle of beer he's holding to his lips and takes a long pull.

Standing in front of the toilet, Dean lowers Sam's legs, his feet to the floor as he quickly grips Sam's upper body as his legs started to buckle, holding him up.

"I gotcha, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean mumbles, holding Sam up in front of the toilet, his back to Dean's front. 

Sam shakes his head, "Can't - I can't do this." he tells Dean weakly,his head laying back against his brother's shoulder. 

Dean frowns, "What? Why?" he asked as he ties to see around Sam, see what the problem was.

Well, for one thing he was too far away from the toilet, for another, Sam obviously couldn't see to aim even if they were close enough, not to mention Sam had a death drip on Dean's arms around him so that he wouldn't fall. 

Dean huffs out a breath, licking his lips and nods, "Okay, s'okay. I can fix this." Dean tells him nodding.

Sam swallows, frowning, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, just work with me, okay?" Dean asks him, as if they are about to hunt down and kill the bogeyman. 

Sam nods his head slightly, licking his lips. "Yeah, 'kay."

Dean gives a curt nod, face set in determined lines as jade orbs dart about the bathroom, until he figures it all out.

"Okay, this is what we're gonna do. I need you to bend over, reach out and bend over the jon," Dean tells him, as though these directions are life or death important.

Sam nods before struggling to pull his head up off Dean's shoulder.

"Reach out and grab the towel rack, Sammy." Dean tells him, jutting his chin toward it, "come on, you can do it."

Sam lifts his head and all but falls forward, arm outstretched, his hand searching frantically and quickly grabbing onto the towel bar, which thankfully was apparently not just stuck up there with that double sided tape crap, but actually screwed into the wall as it holds him.

Dean arranges his stance behind Sam, feet wide apart to balance his weight and Sam's.

Sam bent over the toilet, head hanging forward, his arm gripping the towel rack shaking slightly. 

"Okay," Dean tells him, scooting them up closer to the toilet, so that Sam's groin is hovering directly over the water, "now... piss."

Sam blinks, brow furrowed as he turns his head as if he's looking back at Dean, slivers of hazel showing, though all Sam can see is light and a dark blurred blob behind him.

He figures the burred blob is his brother. 

"Uh, Dean... " Sam starts and licks his lips.

Dean frowns, "What's the matter now, Sam and don't you dare tell me you don't have to go anymore."

Sam shakes his head, "No, that's not - I can't aim."

Dean's frown falls away, "Oh."

Sam turns his head back toward the toilet, though it's still hanging, "I mean, I can see whiter light, but, uh, nothing else."

"S'okay, I can take care of it." Dean tells him as he starts to lean over his brother, only to pause, "Uh, I'm gonna lean over you, Sam, s'just me." Dean tells him before slowly doing just that.

Sam bites his lip, eyes closing as he nods.

It's not because what Dean is doing is bothering him, they never touched him that way, he was always laying down, and right now, he knows it's his brother behind him anyway, it's the fact that Dean said it, had to say it at all. 

So this was life now. 

Never gonna be the same again.

_So dirty._

_Used._

_Such a good bitch._

_Fuckin' queer._

Sam breaths out a slow breath, trying to rid his mind of memories, of those thoughts before they become to real, to horrifying and he's lost, lost himself inside them again and unable to find the way back out.

Moving the hand of one of his arms that's around Sam's waist, Dean reaches for his brother's flaccid cock and again pauses.

"I'm, uh, I'm just gonna hold it for ya while you piss." Dean tells him.

"Hold -?" Sam starts only to stop as what Dean means hits him.

He doesn't like it, the idea of Dean touching him there.

It's not Dean, it's because he's so goddamn disgusting and he doesn't want to soil his perfectly pure brother with his filth, but Sam grits his teeth together and gives a curt nod.

"'Kay." Sam allows, voice rough. 

Dean gives a small nod, slowly curling his hand around Sam's shaft as he watches his brother's face. 

Watches and sees Sam press his lips together, eyes closing tightly.

"S'just me, Sam, just me." Dean tells him softly.

Sam nods, "I - I know. S'okay." 

_That's not the problem, Dean. I hate that you have to do this. I'm sorry. So sorry._

Dean worried his bottom lip as he watched Sam's face, worried he wasn't helping but only making matters worse.

"Just piss, Sam. S'alright." Dean told him.

"I'm tryin', gimme a minute." Sam muttered, trying to relax.

When was the last time he'd done this? 

Actually stood and gone to the bathroom.

Last time he'd been 'normal', before he'd been confined to hell?

A lifetime ago.

Sam gave an audible sigh as he started to pee, his entire body seeming to go a little more slack in Dean's arms.

Damn, who would have ever thought that Sam taking a piss would make Dean feel like they had just conquered the world?

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

It was a good five minutes later and Sam was still pissing.

Dean shifts his weight and tries to ignore how Sam's cock kinda surges as he pisses. 

This was so not the time for him to get a fuckin' boner. 

Of course, he's been celibate for a fuckin' year, save for his right hand, it wasn't exactly his fault that he got hard when the damn wind blew in the wrong direction. 

"Uh, Sam, you, uh, about done there?" Dean asks, sounding almost nervous as he shifts his weight again.

"Heavy?" Sam asks softly.

_You have no idea._

"Huh?" Dean asks him, licking his lips.

Sam licks his own lips, "Am I heavy?"

"Oh," Dean shakes his head, "Nah... nah, s'okay."

Sam gives a small nod, "'Kay." he mutters.

Dean frowns as he looks at his brother, who still isn't holding his head up, hasn't at all since Dean's found him, from what Dean can remember. 

"Uh, Sam, do me a favor?" Dean asks.

Sam turns his head slightly, slits of hazel looking back at the dark blob that is his brother, "I'm kinda busy."

Dean blinks, "Huh? No, uh, lift your head for me."

Sam does as Dean asks, giving a soft groan of pain as he lifts his head. 

Okay, so he could lift it, well it was better than a 'Dean, I can't'.

"Hurts?" Dean asks him.

"Neck kinda does, yeah." Sam tells him, letting his head fall forward once more. 

Dean gives a small nod.

He supposes that was it's expected, if they never moved him from that goddamn cot, or bed or whatever the fuck that nasty thing was in an entire fuckin' year. 

Dean's shredded and shattered heart brakes even more.

Thankfully however, his anger at himself, feeling like a complete and utter failure, his guilt and self hatred, blaming himself for everything that happened to Sam, chases away his semi erection completely and totally.

Dean sighs softly as he rests his chin on Sam's shoulder, eyes downcast absently watching his brother piss.

"I bet I can hit that tiny crack in the porcelain." Dean mumbles and Sam actually gives a soft snicker, shaking his head.

"Freak." Sam teases, his lips curved into a smile, the first one Dean has witnessed on his face since he's been back. 

It warms Dean's insides and makes him want to say something else that will keep that smile there, something that will make this moment last forever, because now, right this moment, the darkness has fallen away and they are standing in warmth, a warmth like the sun and good God it feels good here.

Instead a hush falls between them as Dean's mind goes completely blank as to what to say now. 

Mr. Snark and Sarcasm can't seem to think of a damn thing to make a crack about as he stands and just devours the sight of Sam's profile, looking a lot more like his Sam than he has since the night Dean brought him back. 

_I love you, Sammy._

Dean clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from his brother's face to glance down.

"Jesus, Sam, you're making me have to piss." Dean mumbles.

Sam bites his lip, all traces of a smile sliding away with those words from his brother's lips.

Sam doesn't mean to take so long.

Doesn't mean to need to subject Dean to this at all.

But, like most everything for the last year, he can't help it, and once again, Sam is left hating himself, loathing and despising the disgusting creature he has become.

"M'sorry." Sam mutters softly, his peeing starting to trickle slower, only a few trickles coming out now.

He had waited so long, held it as long as he could, not wanting to go in the bed, afraid to ask to be taken to the bathroom and now, he just hadn't seemed to be able to stop. 

It was like that the first time in the room. 

Darkness surrounding him as he lay there needing to piss so bad he hurt. 

God, how long had he held it then?

Days?

And then when he couldn't hold it anymore and he finally went, he'd cried, hating himself, how disgusting he was. 

Sam swallows hard and shakes his head, trying to shake away the memory. 

Dean's lips part as he sucks in a nearly panicked breath seeing the change fall over Sam.

_No! No! Bring my Sam back! No! I'm sorry! Sam!_

"Sam, I didn't mean -" Dean pauses, pressing his lips together, huffing at himself. 

"Sam, I'm a jerk..." Dean blurts out.

Sam turns his head toward Dean, slits of hazel looking at the dark blob that is his brother and slowly the corner of his lips quirk slightly upward. 

"Yeah," Sam agrees, nodding, "heard that somewhere."

* * *

Sam's trip to the bathroom marked the beginning of a turning point, or at least it seemed that way most days.

Sam had actually eaten a huge bowl of chicken broth that night, along with drinking another three glasses of orange juice. 

Sure, he was still pretty well confined to bed, but it was a start, eating, drinking, making trips to the bathroom... even if Dean had to carry him. 

At least it was something. Baby steps.

A small spark of light was beginning to be seen at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.

Or at least it would seem that way for a while, but there would always be something that would happen, something that would trigger a flashback, a memory, and Sam would once again slip away from his brother, and Dean would be force to rush into the darkness after him, and grab hold of Sam as tightly as he could, and Dean alone would claw their way out of the the abyss that seemed to stalk Sam, dragging them both, weak and exhausted, back out into the light.

* * * 

**_"It's late at night and I can't sleep, missing you just runs too deep. Oh I can't breathe, thinking of your smile. Every kiss I can't forget, this aching heart ain't broken yet, Oh God I wish I could see you smile. Cause I know this flame isn't dying, so nothing can stop me from trying. Baby you know that, maybe it's time for miracles..." ~ Time For Miracles, Adam Lambert_ **

* * *

Days came and went, no one in the small cabin bothered to celebrate Christmas that year, there were more important things to worry about than a holiday that none of them really put much stock in. 

Sam was the center of their lives right now, this makeshift family. 

Bobby, Ellen, Jo and Dean, all taking care of, and putting Sam's needs above their own. 

Days turned into weeks, all of them falling into an almost easy pattern of life. 

Sam beginning to improve physically, if not mentally. 

Sam's eyes seemed to be getting better and better with each passing day. 

Soon, light and dark took the forms of shapes instead of light and dark blurs, the swelling, slowly subsiding.

Dean wasn't even sure when it happened, but one day Sam seemed to have magically grown eyelashes over night. 

His body was healing, though standing and walking was still a challenge for him, walls and people still needed to steady him, taking the brunt of his weight. 

His legs still shaky and weak. 

Time, Dean had promised him each time Sam got frustrated with himself, it was just going to take time.

Night was still their enemy.

The days were bad enough when something was said, done, some trigger, making Sam clam up, crawling back into himself, the light in his eyes going out, glazing over. 

Each time, Dean would know he had just lost Sam again to the darkness.

But, at night, when the earth was flooded with it's own brand of darkness, Sam's personal abyss would attack with a vengeance.

* * *

As Sam's suffering is easy to see, to name and claim, Dean's suffering is completely and utterly overlooked, unseen and unnoticed.

It's as it should be, to his way of thinking. 

He deserves each and every harsh word that falls from his brother's lips during a flashback.

Each time he screams out for Dean not to leave him.

Each time he jerks away from Dean, screaming at him not to touch him.

He knows he lost that right when he was too weak to find Sam in time. 

When he failed him.

This is all his fault. 

He did it. 

Dean might as well of held Sam down for those bastards himself.

He doesn't want anyone's sympathy, doesn't want anyone to tell him that he did the best that he could, because deep down, Dean knows it's a lie.

If he had, he would have found Sam long before he did.

Ruby. 

Ruby was the key and his own fuckin' pride kept him away from it.

His own fuckin' pride. 

Sometimes, Dean just sits and watches Sam, sits with his back against the wall, curled in on himself, watching Sam sleep. 

He can't help but wonder why Sam hasn't told him off yet.

Why he hasn't called him the failure that he is.

He knows he's fucked up so badly this time that there is no way to fix it, nothing he can do.

He hopes that some day Sam can forgive him, but then in the next instant he hopes to God Sam never does, because he doesn't fuckin' deserve it.

Slowly, secretly, unnoticed, Dean slides down into his own abyss, only instead of screaming as he goes, he allows the darkness to seep into his soul, wanting the punishment it offers.

_I'm so sorry, Sammy._

* * * 

The house is dark as Dean slips from the bed, careful not to jostle his brother who is finally sleeping peacefully after yet another nightmare.

A nightmare that had Sam crying out, his entire body shaking, tears falling freely down his face once more.

Dean had held him, whispering words of comfort until Sam finally found sleep once more, though sleep for Dean was an elusive thing, seemingly just out of his reach anymore.

Flashes of Sam at the beginning, in that hell, his failure, flashing before his eyes every time he closed them. 

Slipping from the room, bare feet padding across the wood floors as Dean makes his way to the cabinet near the broom closet, the secret compartment he had found one day while Sam had been resting and the others had been out getting more food and supplies.

Inside, his savior sits, the amber liquid gleaming in the moonlight.

Reaching in, Dean withdraws the bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the cap quickly and tips the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull, before he stops. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, Dean heads toward the front door intent on sitting out on the porch.

His place to fall into his own special oblivion. 

**_“I hurt myself today, to see if i still feel, I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real. The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting try to kill it all away, but i remember everything… What have i become? My sweetest friend, everyone i know, goes away in the end… You could have it all, my empire of dirt, I will let you down, I will make you hurt. I wear my crown of shit, on my liar's chair, full of broken thoughts, I cannot repair. Beneath the stain of time, the feeling disappears. You are someone else, I am still right here. What have i become? My sweetest friend, everyone i know, goes away in the end… If i could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way.” ~ Hurt, Nine Inch Nails_ **

* * *

Dean sits with Sam, backs against the headboard of the bed, bowls of Shepherd's Pie, a dish made of mashed potatoes, ground beef, gravy, baby peas and tiny chunks of carrots all mixed together, in their laps.

Dean smiles over at his brother as he watches Sam nearly devour it all, bowl included.

His own meal barely touched.

It's not the meal itself, normally Dean has no problem with it.

After all, what's not to like?

Beef, good.

Potatoes, good.

Gravy, good.

Peas and carrots... well, okay, he could do without the peas and carrots, but they weren't the problem.

What was the problem was Dean's churning stomach.

He felt like shit, his stomach was a wreck and his head was hurting like a sonuvabitch. 

Yeah, he was suffering the world's worst hangover.

Worse than the other days, it seemed.

But then, he supposed he had drank more, flashes of Sam's tear streaked face dancing before his eyes the entire night long. 

His fault.

He had done that to his brother.

The images had swirled in his head until he had finally blissfully passed out after literally crawling back into the house.

He had awoken on the floor beside the bed, teasing Sam and telling him he had pushed him out of it.

Dean drops his fork into the bowl with a sigh, head tilting back, laying against the wall.

"I can't eat this mush." Dean mumbles softly.

From the corner of Dean's eye, he sees it, the change in Sam.

The way Sam sort of freezes, his mouth full of food.

He just stops chewing, his eyes sort of glazing over. 

Dean knows he just fucked up, he just lost Sam to the darkness.

_Oh shit!_

Dean sits up quickly, reaching down and grabbing his bowl off his lap, sitting it quickly aside on the nightstand so he can turn, reaching for his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean calls to him, turning Sam toward him, adjusting his hold on Sam so he can grab the bowl off Sam's lap with one hand, placing it on the nightstand.

Turning back to Sam, Dean cups his face, forcing Sam to look at him.

"Sammy? Sammy, come on, baby. It's alright, you're here. You're safe, with me." Dean tells him, jade orbs intend on glazed hazel.

Sam's lips press together around the food in his mouth as his eyes sting with tears.

In his mind all he can see, and not really 'see' is him eating the bowl of medicinal tasting mush.

His senses filled with his own stink and the filth that surrounds him, making him gag.

Dean's eyes widen as he watches Sam gag, lips parting, head bowing like he's about to spew his dinner all over the bed.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean calls to him, slightly louder, a growl of frustration tearing from his lips, his inability to pull Sam out of this one, pissing him off. 

_Sonuvabitch!_

Dean moves quickly, pulling up to his knees, sliding his legs backward, off the bed. 

His feet onto the floor, as Dean continues to hold Sam's face in his hands. 

"Come on, Sam, come with me." Dean directs him in a rush. 

Thankfully, Sam does as he asks, though the movements don't seem like he really knows he's doing them.

Maybe it's due to Dean sorta leading him around by his face.

Whatever the case, Sam is following Dean off the bed and so far, there has been no retching, though Sam keeps gagging, his eyes still glazed.

Changing his stance so Dean can walk next to Sam, he wraps one arm around him, placing the other over Sam's mouth and nearly drags him out of the room toward the bathroom.

They make it as far as the bathroom door before Sam pukes, vomiting in Dean's hand, his half digested dinner oozing between Dean's fingers, falling in splats onto the wood floor.

Dean's alcohol queasy stomach can't take it and in the next second, Dean is falling to his knees, pulling a still glazed eyed Sam down with him, as he pukes into the toilet.

One arm braced on the toilet seat, the other having slid around Sam's body, now grips a handful of his t-shirt.

Pulling his head slowly up, Dean looks over at Sam to find tears slowly streaking down his cheeks as he stars at Dean.

Sam shakes his head slowly, "I'm sorry," he mumbles softly, "I didn't mean to -"

Dean shakes his head quickly, the motion making Dean's head spin, his stomach think once again about heaving the remainder of it's contents into the toilet bowl before him. 

"No, Sam. Don't, please. It's okay." Dean tells him softly.

Sam takes a deep breath and nods, tearing his gaze from Dean's face to look down at the mess he's made.

"I - I need to clean this up." Sam mutters softly, reaching for the bathroom counter so he can pull himself to his feet.

Dean tightens his grip on Sam's shirt, causing Sam to look back at him.

Shaking his head Dean sniffles softly as his own tears roll down his face. 

"No, s'okay. I'll - I'll get it." Dean tells him softly, jade eyes gazing into hazel. 

Sam sniffles and gives a nod, tearing his gaze away.

* * *

Dean has Sam back in bed, mouth washed out, teeth brushed, face washed, clean sweats on and comfortably leaning back against pillows. 

The mess in the bathroom is clean, Dean himself is cleaned up and both seem to be feeling a little bit better, save for Dean's pounding headache, which after finishing with the bathroom, Dean took five ibuprofen to get rid of, hoping like hell it will go away.

Walking back into the bedroom after getting Sam a tall glass of juice, Dean crouches next to the bed as he hands it to him, offering a small smile. 

"Here ya go, baby." Dean mutters softly.

Taking the glass, Sam gives a small nod, lips pressed together as he tears his gaze away from Dean's.

"Thanks." Sam mutters out, his voice flat.

For the last few days, since he has started to really get better, more able to think things over, Sam has had a hard time with something, has really not been able to gasp why it took Dean so long to find him.

He hasn't said anything, doesn't want to upset Dean, he's sure Dean did the best that he could.

But, there is a nagging voice in the back of his mind that just won't leave him alone.

If it had been Dean, Sam knows without a doubt he wouldn't have taken a year.

He's sure Dean has his reasons, but for the life of him, Sam can't seem to grasp what they are.

It has driven a wedge between them.

It's unspoken and Sam tries to pretend it's not there, but it is.

As wide as the Grand Canyon and as dark and deep as the abyss that pulls him in sometimes. 

Dean watches as Sam takes a drink of the juice, nearly marveling at the fact that Sam is doing it on his own.

It's stupid, and he knows it, but Dean can remember how not so long ago, Sam couldn't and it warms a place in Dean to see the progress Sam has made.

Tearing his gaze from his brother, Dean reaches over and flips on the alarm clock radio, a smile pulling at his lips as the song, their song, or so he has come to think of it, at least his song about Sam, fills the room.

**_"Without you there's no change, my nights and days are gray, if I reached out and touched the rain, it just wouldn't feel the same. Without you I'd be lost, I'd slip down from the top, I'd slide down so low - you'd never never know... Without you, without you, a sailor lost at sea, without you - the world comes down on me, without you in my life, I'd slowly wilt and die, but with you in my life, you're the reason I'm alive..." ~ Motley Crue._ **

Reaching out, Dean places a hand on Sam's leg. "S' our song." Dean tells him, smiling up at his brother, jade orbs filled with love.

Sam jerks his leg out from under Dean's touch as though it's burned him. 

A simple knee jerk reaction to everything.

Sam glances over at Dean, then to the radio and back. 

"Mm." is the only reply Sam gives, it sounds disinterested and unbelieving, and it nearly rocks Dean to is very core, his broken and shattered heart aching, constricting to the point that the air seems to be squeezed from his lungs.

Dean's chest and throat burn as tears prick his eyes before he tears his gaze away from Sam, hanging his head.

"Well, I -" Dean starts only to have Sam interrupt him.

"I think I want to just try to sleep," Sam tells him, reaching over to place his juice on the night stand, "before it's completely dark outside." 

Dean nods, but he doesn't lift his gaze.

"Okay, Sammy." Dean tells him softly, pulling to his full height.

It's true, Sam sleeps better before the darkness claims the earth, so really this isn't a totally off the wall request, but after Sam's lack of enthusiasm with their song, it only serves to cut Dean from the inside out. 

Turning, Dean walks to the door, pulling it open and pauses, "I'll just leave this cracked." 

Sam nods as he slides down in the bed a little, not looking up at Dean, "Yeah, okay." he mumbles, before getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

Dean looks back over his shoulder at his brother and another piece of Dean slowly dies and falls off into the abyss.


	7. Chapter 7

Sweating, Sam must be sweating on him.

Another nightmare.

No, Dean wasn't in bed, the hard press of wood against his back told him that. 

Raining, it was raining.

Big fat drops of liquid on his face, growing heavier by the minute.

The gush of water over his face has Dean's eyes flying open as he sputters and coughs.

Jade orbs are wide and full of angry confusion as he frowns up at Bobby.

"...the HELL!?!?" Dean spats, scurrying backward away from the vial of holy water Bobby is pouring out over his face.

Bobby looks at Dean unflinching, his expression unreadable as he screws the cap back on the vial.

"Only demons and dogs sleep on the porch," Bobby tells him with a small nod of his head, as though Bobby were the keeper of all the secrets to the universe and well, maybe he was. "I was jus' tryin' ta figure out which one of 'em you were." 

Dean huffs, lifting a hand off the wooden floor of the porch to run down his face, wiping water out of his eyes, off long eyelashes as he tears his gaze from Bobby's.

_Neither? Both? Yeah, likely both._

"Guess it depends on who you talk to." Dean mumbles under his breath, blinking away the remaining moisture as he turns his head, looking away.

"Sam was askin' for ya." Bobby mumbles as he turns back toward the door.

Dean's attention snaps back to Bobby, head turning to look at the elder hunter. 

"Sam's awake!?" Dean asks him, a little anxious, maybe a tad excited, and a whole lot worried. 

Worried that Sam's had another nightmare.

Only Bobby isn't there anymore, only the cabin door, slowly swinging closed from Bobby's silent escape into the house.

_Sonuva…_

Dean pulls up quickly, scrambling to his feet, even though he's unsteady and the fast movement makes his head spin, his headache pound harder, even though his stomach protests the movement, making him feel as though he's going to puke all over the damned porch. 

Leaning a hand, palm flat against the side of the cabin, Dean takes a few slow deep breaths, willing his body passed this. 

Sam needs him.

He doesn't have the time or luxury to worry about himself, not that he ever did.

Sam comes first, Sam has always come first to Dean. 

_Except when your pride got in the way and you let this happen to him. Allowed it to happen for an entire fuckin' year!_

Dean's eyes close tightly as he wills the voice in his head away, tries to do like always and just bury his feelings as best as he can. 

Swallowing hard, Dean slowly opens his eyes and reaches for the door handle. 

Sam, he needs to just get to Sam.

Staggering into the cabin, Dean's gaze sweeps the room.

He can see Ellen and Bobby in the kitchen, Ellen's busy doin' something at the stove and sink, Bobby has taken a seat at the table, an open beer before him.

He can hear their hushed voices as they talk, but the words don't make sense and to his pounding head it seems like they're just yelling garbled nonsense.

He has to fight the urge to tell them both to just shut the hell up, because then they would know his secret, and he can't allow that.

He isn't what's important, not now, not ever.

It's Sam. 

Always Sam.

Reaching the bedroom door, Dean reflexively notices that it's slightly more ajar than he left it. 

Hunters instincts, the ability to notice small, fine details still working in him, even in his half inebriated state with the world's worst headache ever.

Steadying himself with one hand against the wall, Dean reaches out and pushes the door the rest of the way open with the other.

Jade orbs take in the scene before him.

Jo crouched beside the bed, Sam propped up on pillows, leaning against the headboard, both of them speaking softly.

Neither seem to notice he's standing there.

Dean takes a shuffled step further into the room, one hand still holding onto the wall for support.

"Sam?" Dean asks as he looks at his brother, his gaze darting to Jo briefly, before going back to Sam, "You okay?"

Sam gives a soft huff, lips pressing together, though he is still looking down at Jo.

Sam closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them once more and gives Jo a small nod before reaching out toward her as he swings his legs slowly, weakly off the side of the bed.

Jo immediately pulls to her full height to help Sam get up, reaching for him, her hands at his waist to help him balance as he pulls off the bed and to his feet, one hand going to the wall, the other braced on Jo's shoulder as he turns to face Dean, jaw tilted at what appears to almost be a stubborn angle as Sam shakes his head.

"No, Dean, I'm not." Sam tells him.

Jo starts to move away from Sam, helping him take a few steps forward so she can place his hand that is on her shoulder on the bed's foot board as he holds the wall with the other.

Once done, Jo leans up on tip toe, pressing a soft quick kiss to Sam's check, making Dean's brow quirk.

It's not the fact that she gave Sam a kiss on the cheek, it's the fact that she is kissing Sam. 

Ever since Meg possessed him, Sam hasn't exactly been Jo's favorite person on the planet.

Turning, Jo heads to the door, her gaze toward the floor as she brushes past Dean and out. 

Dean turns his head, watching her go for a moment, wondering just what the hell he missed in here before he finally tears his gaze away to look back at his brother who is standing there seemingly staring him down. 

"What kept you?" Sam asks him.

A tendril of cold icy fear and trepidation work it's way down Dean's spine as he stands there.

It's not the way Sam said it, his voice low, seemingly free of anger.

It's the look in his slightly slanted hazel eyes that has Dean's gut clenching, his palms sweating, heart hammering so hard in his chest.

Dean clears his suddenly too dry throat as he looks at Sam, "I - I was outside, I didn't know -"

Sam's head shaking slowly stops Dean's sentence, his pathetic excuse for not being here.

His lie. 

_I was outside sleeping off my drunken stupor._

Dean shakes his head slowly, the sting of tears burning his eyes, as he knows, he knows the real question that lays in the depths of those hazel eyes boring into his.

"I tried, Sammy. You don't know how hard I tried," Dean tells him as tears start to fall, slipping silently down his cheeks, "I swear to GOD I tried!" 

Sam tilts his head to the side as he takes a small step forward, his hand on the walls sliding a little until Sam manages to get a better grip, make his legs listen to his brain better, his grip on the foot board tightening.

Dean's gaze darts between Sam and his hands, he has to force himself to stay still, to not rush forward and grab onto Sam, help him walk, go wherever it is Sam is trying to get to. 

"You don't believe in God," Sam retorts softly, though his eyes narrow. 

Dean shakes his head, mouth opening and closing though no words come out.

He doesn't know what to say, what he _can_ say.

_I fucked up Sam. Yeah, I did this. It's my fault._

"You let me rot there for a year, Dean." Sam tells him, taking another step, this one more controlled than the last.

Dean clenches his jaw, muscle twitching as he seems to stand a little taller, hands clenching into fists as they fall to his sides. 

Jade intent on haze, Dean gave a small nod, "Yes." he answers, voice soft, no more than a breath of air.

Sam's own jaw clenches, muscle twitching as he looks at Dean, a look of hatred slowly creeping across his features, before Sam lunges at his brother. 

"You fucking bastard!" Sam shouts as he reaches for Dean's throat, nearly falling in the process.

As Sam moved, Dean took a step forward, the door, swinging closed behind him with a soft click, a second before Sam was on him. 

Dean's back smacked against the wall as he reached for Sam, handfuls of his tee in fisted hands. 

"Sam!" Dean shouted through his teeth as they both slowly slid down the wall to the floor. 

_Sam lay in the darkness that was his world, Skinny leaning over him, applying some sort of salve to wounds Sam wasn't even aware anymore that he had. His entire body aching._

_"Dean"_

_"Dean s'not comin', perty boy."_

_"He will, he will."_

_A deep sigh, "S'been almos' a year, I'm thinkin' he fergot aboutcha."_

Hazel met green, tears streaming down Sam's cheeks as he glared at his brother. 

"You left me there! You _forgot_ about me!" Sam yells, his hands fisted in the material of the collar of Dean's shirt.

Dean's jaw unclenched, his hold on Sam loosening slightly, "No, Sam," Dean clenched his teeth once more, gripping Sam tighter, sending them rolling on the floor, "No, I would _never_ forget you!" yelled back Dean, struggling to pin Sam under him, only to be rolled over once more. 

Even still weak, Sam had his anger to fuel him, as well as Dean's self loathing to not try as hard.

Soon Sam had his brother pinned under him, his face in Dean's, teeth clenched in anger, "Do you know what they did to me!?" Sam roars.

Dean's head pounds with Sam's screaming in his face, but that isn't important. 

Sam.

Just Sam.

"Yes, Sam, I know. I know, goddammit!" Dean tells him, yelling back before glancing up at his wrists that Sam had pinned to the floor, his gaze darting back to Sam's face.

Sam's eyes narrowed more, "I don't think you do, I don't think you have a fucking clue, Dean or else you would have tried harder!" Sam sneers.

"Sam, please..." Dean begs him, shaking his head slowly, tears in his eyes, tracks down his cheeks.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I begged too, Dean. Begged every fuckin' day, but they never listened. They never fuckin' listened!" Sam tells him, adjusting his hold on Dean's wrists, gripping them both in one hand.

Dean turns his head, looking up at his wrists then back at Sam and swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing as he shakes his head, "Sam, don't do this."

Sam's face twists into an ugly mask of rage and hate as he glares at his brother. 

"They stripped me, they chained me to the fucking wall, Dean! And then they came in and held me down, forced shit down my throat." Sam pressed his lips together an involuntary shudder wracking his frame.

"Then, when I was good and drugged, they lifted my legs in the air, all of them," Sam dips his head, his face inches above Dean's, "there were fuckin' ten of them, Dean! Ten dammit!" Sam yells. 

Sam reaches between them, his hand sliding under Dean's sweats and boxers to grip Dean's cock roughly, squeezing until Dean groans, struggling under him.

"How does it feel, Dean? How does it feel? They did that to me and more. Fuckin' cut me, burned me, tortured me for hours and the entire time laughing at my pain!" Sam growls through his teeth.

Dean's neck arches back, lips parting, his eyes nearly crossing with the pain, but he doesn't fight back.

Sure, he squirms and tries to get away, but he could easily get out of this, if he wasn't still drunk, if he really wanted to, if he didn't welcome the abuse that down deep he knows he deserves. 

Releasing Dean's cock, Sam pulls his hand out, reaching down under Dean's knee, hooking his leg, lifting his knee up toward his chest.

Dean looks back at his brother's face, head shaking adamantly, jade eyes wide. "No, Sam, no!" Dean tells him.

Sam's lips curve up into a nearly evil smirk.

The look reminds Dean of when Sam was possessed by Meg and a small shudder runs through his body.

Sam tilts his head, hazel orbs searching Dean's face, "And once they had me held like this, unable to move," Sam tells him, his voice soft, too soft.

The sound of it makes the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stand on end.

Sam smiles, "That's when they really used me." Sam tells him, voice still soft, face expressionless, until the moment, Sam pulls his hips back, his teeth clench together as he thrusts hard against Dean's ass.

"They fucked me until I was raw and bleeding and then did it again!" Sam yells angrily, his face contorted in rage and hate as he continues to thrust his hips against Dean. 

"Sam... Sam, please... Sam..." Dean begs, head rolling back and forth on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"There were ten of them, Dean! Ten! And every one of them touched me, fucked me, cut me, hurt me!!!" Sam nearly screams, his face a deep red with his angry shouts.

"I know..." Dean cries brokenly, voice soft, his face wrecked with his tears, shoulders shaking with his sobs.

"Sorry, Sammy, I'm so sorry." Dean mumbles out through his sobs. 

"How does it feel, Dean? How does it feel to be held down, to be forced into submission, to be touched unwillingly and violated as you beg for mercy!? Mercy that never comes!" Sam snarls at him, hips continuing to thrust his sweats covered flaccid cock against Dean's ass. 

"S' horrible, Sammy. S' horrible." Dean mumbles out through his tears, head turned to the side, eyes squeezed tightly closed as he cries. 

Sam huffs, "You have no fucking idea what horrible is! Imagine being forced to piss and shit on yourself! Imagine them not just using you once a day, but sometimes twice, three time, MORE!" Sam yells at him.

"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry." Dean whimpers, head rolling the other direction, tears still falling, bottom lip quivering.

Sam's hips stop thrusting against Dean as he releases Dean's leg, reaching up to grip his brother's jaw, "You know, the only thing that was worse than all that to me, Dean?" Sam asks him, leaning his face down close to Dean's once more, voice suddenly soft again, "It was when they talked about finding you after they were through with me. After they had fucked me to death, going out and finding you," Sam tells him, shaking his head.

He makes a disgusted sound as he pulls his head back, shaking it, "I wasn't as worried about dying, about me, as I was you." Sam tells him, his voice hard, "I guess the same can't be said for you though." 

Hazel orbs search his brother's wrecked face, "How long, Dean? How long did it take for you to forget me? Huh?" 

Dean tries to shake his head, "I didn't," Dean cries, his tear filled eyes opening, red and swollen from crying and the liquor as he looks up at his brother, "I never forgot you!"

Sam's eyes narrow, "Liar." Sam spats, releasing Dean's jaw. 

Dean shakes his head, his eyes on Sam's, "No, I swear, Sam. I'm not lyin'. I never forgot, I looked I swear to God, I looked for you! I had everyone looking for you!"

Sam shakes his head, "Three hundred and sixty five days, Dean. Where were you for three hundred and sixty five days?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply, so say something, only no words come out, there is nothing he can say, nothing that will explain away how late Dean was in saving Sam, how it was that all that time passed by and nothing. 

Instead a sound like a wounded animal escapes Dean's throat before his mouth closes, teeth clenched together as he squeezes his eyes closed tightly. 

Sam watches his brother's face, no pity or remorse for making Dean own up to his failure evident at all as he glares down at him. 

"If it had been you," Sam nodded, " _I_ would have found a way."

Dean's lips part as he sobs brokenly, openly, shoulders shaking hard with the sobs that wrack his frame.

Sam's face is still a mask of uncaring as he leans down, his face near Dean's as his brother cries, "Now imagine that the one touching you, the one hurting you, hates you and only wants to see your pain." Sam tells him softly.

Dean hiccups in breaths as his lashes flutter, eyes slowly opening to look up at Sam, bottom lip quivering.

"I don't have to _imagine_ , Sammy." Dean replies softly, shaking his head, just before he chokes back another sob, "I got it." Dean tells him softly.

Sam blinks at his brother, looking at him like he has no idea who he is, or how he got there.

Slowly, Sam releases Dean's wrists, pulling back and reaching for the foot board of the bed.

Clumsily, weakly, suddenly very weakly, Sam pulls himself up to his feet, staggering slowly to the bed as he uses the bed and wall for support.

Dean watches him move, though, his breath panting out from crying, sniffling.

He scurries back against the wall, before pulling himself to his feet. 

As Sam collapses down on the bed, Dean staggers to the door in a rush, throwing it open.

By the time Sam can roll just a little so that he can look over, Dean is gone, the door to the bedroom swinging closed in his wake.

Rolling back over onto his side, Sam cries into his pillow.

Dean no more makes it outside before he is on his knees, his head hanging over the edge of the porch puking violently as he trembles, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

* * * 

After puking for what seemed like an eternity, Dean had no idea there had been enough in his stomach to puke that long and hard, he had simply slumped to the side, falling over and curling up into the fetal position on the side of the porch, tears still streaming down his face as he cried softly.

The images Sam painted, the things he had said, running though Dean's mind over and over again like a broken record.

Dean understands Sam's anger, welcomes it, but there is one sentence that he just can't get out of his head. 

One thing that Sam said that continues to slice what was left of his already wounded heart to shreds so small that a cold numb emptiness slowly begins to fill the area where his heart use to be. 

_"If it had been you, I would have found a way."_

* * *

A long while later, Sam's not sure how long he's been laying there crying, but his tears have turned to hiccupped breaths and soft sniffles.

His pillowcase is soaked with his tears and his eyes are swollen again, nearly to the point that he can't open them.

He hasn't moved from laying as he was on his side, legs drawn up, knees against his chest, one hand laid back against the pillow, the other down against the mattress.

He hadn't meant for it to go that way.

Hadn't meant to hurt Dean.

And he definitely hadn't meant to do those horrible things.

If anyone knows just how horrible they are, it's him and he never meant to do it... to show Dean how it felt.

But, somewhere in the waiting, the wanting, the needing an answer and Dean's softly spoken " _Yes_ ", he lost it. 

He'd lost all rational thought and lashed out, raged against the pain, against the hopelessness he had felt for so long, against how violated he had been... and then against Dean. 

He had needed a real answer, real words, a reason and all he had been given was a 'yes'. 

Yes, Dean had let him rot there for a year?

Why?

How?

How could he _do_ that?

"I tried, Sammy. You don't know how hard I tried,"

This from the brother that Sam has seen manage the impossible. 

I tried.

It still hurts, his chest aches so bad it feels like he's had a hole punched through it, but he knows Dean, knows how his brother is, and Sam hopes to God Dean isn't off somewhere doing something stupid.

He should get up, go look for him.

Sam knows this, but his body just doesn't seem to want to listen to his brain.

Tired.

Just so incredibly tired now. 

Sam's eyes slowly drift closed, "Dean..." his brother's name softly tumbles sleepily from his lips just before blackness claims him. 

* * *

Dean opens his eyes, blinking away the sleepiness, waking from what he can only imagine was him passing out. 

Blissful blackness.

Slowly Dean presses a hand against the wood floor of the porch, pushing himself up, sitting on the edge.

Turning his head, he notices that the sun has sunk behind the trees now, and he wonders just how long he's been laying out there.

A part of him worries about Sam and thinks that he should go check on him, but another part knows that he is the last person Sam wants to see right now.

Possibly ever again.

And Dean can't find it in himself to blame Sam for it at all.

He deserves this, he brought it all on himself. 

Glancing toward the Impala, Dean struggles to pull to his feet.

In her trunk is a bottle of Jim Beam that's screaming his name. 

Standing to his feet, Dean makes his way over to the car, stepping carefully so he doesn't make his headache any worse, cause yeah, it's still there. 

Pounding away at his brain.

He can't stop thinking about just how badly he failed Sam, about how much he fucked up.

Can't get the sight of Sam over him, with that look of hatred on his face out of is head.

Reaching the Impala, Dean braces a hand against it as he walks around to the back, unlocking the trunk, popping it open. 

He stands there, staring in at the items inside as if he's forgotten why he's there, as if he is suddenly completely and utterly lost.

Sam's voice playing over and over in his head, _"How does it feel, Dean? How does it feel to be held down, to be forced into submission, to be touched unwillingly and violated as you beg for mercy!? Mercy that **never** comes!"_

Dean grits his teeth together as fresh tears sting his eyes, roll down his cheeks.

"I tried, Sam! Goddammit, I tried!" Dean growls in rage, hands clenching into fists, his breaths coming harder, faster in his rising anger. 

Anger at himself for not being there for Sam, for letting him down. 

Anger at Sam for not understanding, for getting grabbed in the first place... 

Just angry at everything. 

They had been so happy once. 

A lifetime ago.

**_"And I would do anything for love, I'd run right into hell and back. I would do anything for love, I'll never lie to you and that's a fact. But I'll never forget the way you feel right now, oh no, no way, and I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, I won't do that…  
Anything for love, oh I would do anything for love. I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, oh I won't do that..."_ **

_"How long, Dean? How long did it take for you to forget me? Huh?"_

Dean's face contorts in rage before he reaches into the trunk grabbing a tire iron out, pulling back as he holds one end like a baseball bat, Dean starts beating away at his beloved car, cries of rage tearing from his throat as windows break, glass shattering, raining down like tiny diamonds. 

"I came for you, goddammit! I looked for you! I never forgot you!" Dean yells at the top of his lungs, voice so loud it makes his throat hurt, feel raw and scratched. 

**_"...Some days it don't come easy, and some days it don't come hard. Some days it don't come at all, and these are the days that never end..."_ **

Dean swings the tire iron over and over again as memories, visions assault him, dancing before his minds eye, ripping his already wounded soul to shreds. 

**_"...Some nights you're breathing fire..."_**

_"There were ten of them, Dean! Ten! And every one of them touched me, fucked me, cut me, hurt me!!!"_

**_"...and some nights you're carved in ice..."_ **

_Don't, Dean! Don't touch me!_

**_"...Some nights you're like nothing I've ever seen before or will again..."_ **

_Sam with a death grip on the headboard, his legs raised under the blankets._

_Sam begging, crying, pleading with his phantom attackers, "No more! Please... No more. No!"_

On one last swing, Dean lets go of the tire iron, sending it hurling through the air away from him, away from the car, landing with a thud somewhere far off, but Dean doesn't notice as he steps back to the trunk, grabbing out the bottle of Jim Beam, unscrewing the cap and taking a long pull, guzzling it down like it's water. 

**_"Maybe I'm crazy, but it's crazy and it's true. I know you can save me, no one else can save me now but you…"_ ** _,/I >_

_Jade orbs dart to the contents of the trunk as he drinks._

_Slowly, Dean lowers the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze darting up toward the house briefly before returning to the contents of the trunk._

_"Now imagine that the one touching you, the one hurting you, hates you and only wants to see your pain."_

_Face twisted into a frown, of sadness and anger, of pain, Dean reaches in with his free hand and snatches out one of the rifles, bringing it to the hand holding the neck of the bottle of whiskey._

_Whiskey neck between ring and middle finger, Dean takes the rifle between index and thumb of that hand, reaching in to grab up a box of shells._

_Reaching up with that hand, he slams the trunk closed, moving to slowly slid down the side of the car, sitting on the ground, legs out stretched in front of himself._

_Placing the bottle on the ground next to him, Dean begins loading the rifle with bullets._

_The soft breeze blows blond strands off her shoulders as she stands under the tree, where she has been watching Dean for the last few moments._

_Ever since he had attacked a poor innocent hunk of metal in his fury._

_Arms crossed over her chest, her blue eyes narrowed as she watched him pull the rifle from the Impala's trunk._

_With a soft sigh, Ruby let her arms fall to her sides, taking a few careful steps toward Dean._

_She easily moves to the side, keeping Bobby's truck strategically between herself and the broken hunter, as he turns, sliding down the side of his battered car to the ground, whiskey and gun in hand._

_"I fuckin' looked for you. I died a little each day that I couldn't find you." Dean growls out softly between gritted teeth as he cocks the rifle._

_With an angry frown marring his features, Dean pulls the rifle up, placing the barrel up under his chin, one hand sliding down to curl around the trigger, finger against it._

_Ready._

_Just pull._

_That's all he has to do, pull the trigger._

_Then Sam won't have to be reminded how badly he failed him._

_Won't have to look at him everyday and remember._

_Pull the trigger, for Sam._

_Dean slowly squeezes his eyes closed, finger moving slowly against the rifles trigger._

_**_"...As long as the planets are turning, as long as the stars are burning, as long as your dreams are coming true, you better believe it, that I would do anything for love, and I'll be there till the final act…"_ ** _

_Stepping around Bobby's truck, Ruby tilts her head to the side, watching Dean move the barrel up under his chin._

_He isn't really going to...?_

_Ruby tilts her head to the side as her gaze darts from his face, with his eyes closed tight, down to his hand at the trigger._

_He is._

_He _really_ is._

_"Oh _please, let me._ " Ruby quips, stepping forward, a smirk pulling at her lips as she watches Dean's eyes open, as he looks over at her through blood shot jade orbs._

_Watches as he releases the breath he'd been holding, the rifle barrel lowering._

_Dean scoffs, tearing his gaze away from hers, to look down, his head hanging slightly, "...the hell are you doin' here?" he mumbles out softly._

_"Just thought I'd come by and see how things were goin'." Ruby tells him with a shrug of one shoulder as she walks over to stand directly across from him._

_"But, don't let me interrupt you." she tells him, a smirk pulling at her lips as she moves, lowering her self down onto the ground to sit, her legs outstretched before her, crossing them at the ankles, her gaze intent on Dean._

_Dean looks over at her, eyes narrowed, "You have no idea, Ruby," he spats, tearing his gaze away, "I have my reasons." he adds in a mumble._

_Ruby nods, "Oh, I'm sure you do. And I'm sure that Sam will love picking up your scattered pieces. That he'll love feeling like he forced you into this decision. I'm sure he will be real happy to share your guilt and failure," her blue eyes narrowed, "And I'm sure he will want to live a long, happy and full life knowing he destroyed and killed his brother, so go ahead Dean, DO IT!!!"_

_Dean's eyes narrow as he pulls back his foot back, then kicks at Ruby, "FUCK YOU! Just fuck you! Go to hell!"_

_Ruby gives a harsh laugh, tilting her head back to roll against the truck behind her. "Oh, Dean, we've had this conversation before."_

_Dean reaches out grabbing up the bottle of whiskey, tilting it to his lips, his hard angry gaze on the demon before him._

_Ruby's eyes go to Dean, her head still tilted back against the truck, a smirk pulling at her lips._

_Pulling the bottle from his lips, Dean licks them, giving a soft huff as he shakes his head._

_"I don't know that you're completely right about that, Ruby." Dean tells her softly._

_"Sam doesn't want," he sighed, pressing his lips together._

_Ruby pulls her head up off the truck, her gaze intent on Dean as she reaches over, taking the bottle from his hand, bringing it to her own lips to take a swig._

_"Sam doesn't know what he wants, Dean. He's still hurting. He's angry and hurting and you were there." she tells him with a shrug of a shoulder._

_Dean's gaze drops to the ground, "I didn't think about how Sam might feel, if he had to find me. I just thought he'd be relieved. Not having to remember..."_

_Ruby huffs, nodding, "Yeah, cause you're selfish."_

_Dean's gaze snaps up to hers, eyes narrowing._

_Ruby shrugs a shoulder dismissively, "Nothing wrong with that, I am too." she smirks softly, "Well, then again, look who's telling you that."_

_Dean huffs, nodding, "Yeah, well..." his gaze hardens, "And I'm not. I always put Sam first."_

_"Because you need him to be first. You need Sam like that. It's all selfish needs, Dean. Sure, they're wrapped in a prettier package, but they're still selfish."_

_Dean frowns hard at the demon before him, "That's about as fucked up as saying that being in love is selfish!"_

_Ruby chuckles, "Well, isn't it!?"_

_Dean scoffs, "I can't believe I'm debating this with a demon." he mumbles, tearing his gaze away._

_Ruby tilts her head back laughing before taking another drink._

_Dean peers at her from the corner of his eye, his frown slowly melting away, which annoys the hell out of him._

_Reaching out, he snatches the bottle back, "Gimme that!"_

_Dean takes a long pull, eyeing her as he does._

_Ruby watches him drink, smiling as she snickers softly._

_Pulling the bottle from his lips, Dean eyes her a moment longer, her laughter dying completely away as she looks back at him._

_Dean tears his gaze from hers, head hanging for a moment before he pulls his head up, face somber as he gives a small nod._

_"I was selfish," he begins softly, licking his lips._

_**_"...I would do anything for love, and I'll take a vow and seal a pact. But I'll never forgive myself if we don't go all the way tonight…"_ ** _

_"I was selfish and arrogant and because of that, my brother suffered for a goddamn year." Dean told her with a sniff, "I let my selfish pride get in the way of my calling on the one person who could really help me find Sam. I wouldn't let myself call on a damn demon witch, even though you were the one with the power to find him." Dean tells her softly, shaking his head, gaze intense._

_"I betrayed Sam's trust in me, his faith that I would save him. All for my pride. So, yeah," he nods, "I guess I am a selfish sonofabitch." he tells her before taking another long pull from the bottle._

_Ruby eyes Dean silently for a few moments before tilting her head to the side, her gaze darting between his face and the rifle laying across his lap, "And so, your answer is the easy way out?" She asks him, pulling her head up, "Once again leave Sam alone, scared and hurting while you make a run for it?" she asks, glancing down and giving the rifle a pointed look, before blue eyes meet green once more._

_Dean scoffs, tearing his gaze away, head hanging._

_Licking her lips, Ruby pulls her legs in, pulling up to her knees as she moves closer to Dean and reaches out, her hand cupping the side of his face, making him look back at her._

_"Point is you did call, Dean. You swallowed your pride and you called." She shakes her head, blue intent on jade, "Secret?" she asks softly, "Had it been me, I still wouldn't have called, and Sam would still be at the hands of those maniacs... or dead." Ruby tells him matter - of - factly, her gaze searching his face._

_"When it mattered, you did what you had to do, for Sam." she leans in closer, the thumb of hand cupping his face slowly running over his cheekbone," Just like you always do." she smiles softly, shaking her head, "You're not to blame, Dean. It's not your fault." she tells him softly leaning in to brush her lips across his, before pulling back slightly, blue gazing into green._

_Dean looks into the blue eyes of a demon and for the moment, she seems like his angel, granting him forgiveness for fucking up, for failing, for not being good enough._

_Lips parted, his tongue darts out to lick them, the only movement he makes as he stares into her eyes._

_Reaching over with her free hand, Ruby slowly wraps her hand around the rifle, pulling it away from Dean._

_"You don't need this, Dean. I'm here for you," she shakes her head slowly, her gaze never leaving his face as she moves the rifle away, "I'm here, use me. Take out your anger, your pain and all of that guilt on me." she tells him, her hand on his face pulling away, to move down to press, palm flat against his chest, "It's alright, Dean. You can't hurt me. Do it." she whispers softly, leaning in to press her lips to his._

_**_"...And I would do anything for love, oh I would do anything for love. Oh I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, no I won't do that. I would do anything for love, anything you've been dreaming of. But I just won't do that…_ ** _

_With a growl of rage and pain, Dean reaches up, hands knocking hers from his chest as his go to her jacket, gripping fistfuls, pulling her in closer, his tongue pressing hard into her mouth._

_There is no gentleness in the gesture, no feeling or warmth, it is out of pure anger, guilt and pain that he maps out her mouth, tongue fucking it viciously as a hard push sends Ruby sprawling over backward on the ground, Dean following her over, landing hard on top of her._

_Hands move to push her jacket from her shoulders as his head moves side to side, continuing to roughly kiss her, teeth clanking, lips bruising._

_Ruby's hands pushing at Dean's leather and over shirt, off his shoulders and down as he shrugs them off._

_Ruby's upper body lifts up just enough for the jacket to be pushed from her body, Dean's hands sliding down her sides to the hem of her baby tee, grasping the material and pulling it up._

_The kiss breaks only long enough for her shirt to be tossed away, Dean's own tee following after it._

_Mouths are pressed back together once more, her arms wrapping around Dean's bare shoulders, pulling him in closer._

_Dean lifts his hip, his hands sliding between them, nimble digits making quick work of the fastenings of her jeans, shoving his sweats down and out of the way along with his boxers._

_Lips part, breaths panting out as Dean lowers himself, thrusting against Ruby, his hard cock sliding against her lower belly, a low groan tearing from his throat._

_Reaching between them, Dean wraps a hand around his hard cock, lining himself up with her moist center, before he thrusts his hips, ramming hard into her tight heat._

_Ruby's back arches, a soft moaned gasp tearing from her lips, blue orbs sliding to black as she wraps her legs around his lower back._

_A low cry of rage and guilt, pain and sorrow tears from Dean's throat, tears, filling his eyes to slowly begin tracking down his cheeks, face contorted in rage as he slams into the demon under him._

_"...Some days I pray for silence, and some days I pray for soul, some days I just pray to the god of sex and drums and rock 'n roll. Some nights I lose the feeling, and some nights I lose control. Some nights I just lose it all when I watch you dance and the thunder rolls…"_

*

Sweating, Sam was sweating, a fine sheen covering his brow as he thrashed in his sleep. "Dean... no... M'sorry... So sorry... Love you..." the words are mumbled out as he dreams, his nightmare vision of Dean leaving him, walking away, telling Sam how he failed and hates himself now. 

*

Lips crush against lips, teeth clanking, moans and sobs eaten up in the brutal kiss, tongues tangling.

Hands grip brutally hard, with no thought, bruising tender flesh as Dean continues to pound into the demon bitch, chasing a release that really won't be there, even when his body climaxes.

Tearing his lips from Ruby's, he looks down at the black-eyed demon, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

"Sammy..." Dean cries his brothers name softly, "Sammy, I'm sorry..." he mumbles through his tears before his head lowers, slanting his mouth over the demons once more. 

Ruby clings to the hunter, allowing him to use her to vent his pain and anger, arching into each thrust. 

Never the one for a gentle romp anyway. 

*

Ellen places plates down at each place setting, hoping that the boys will join them tonight for supper. 

With a small smile she glances up at Bobby as he walks into the kitchen.

"Suppers ready, I just need ta get the boys." She tells him.

Bobby nods, "I'll get Sam."

Ellen nods and heads for the front door. 

*

Dean's body tenses as he pulls his mouth away from the demons, heat pooling low in his belly, balls drawing up and it's then, maybe for the first time since this started, that Dean realizes what it is he's doing. 

What he's really doing.

With an anguished cry Dean cums hard inside the manipulative demon bitch beneath him.

**_"...Maybe I'm lonely and that's all I'm qualified to be. There's just one and only, the one and only promise I can keep…"_ **

Dean lays still and spent on top of Ruby, his head turned away from her face as he sobs, shoulders shaking. 

"Sammy, I'm so sorry, Sammy." he mumbles through his tears.

Ruby sighs, rolling her eyes as her head rolls away from the emotional hunter collapsed on top of her.

* 

Entering the bedroom, Bobby walks to the bed, taking a careful seat on the edge as he reaches out to shake Sam's shoulder.

Sam's head is thrashing, lips parted, brow and upper lip dotted in sweat.

Obviously having a nightmare.

"Sam? Son, wake up." Bobby calls softly to him.

Sam's lashes flutter, eyes flying open wide as he looks up at Bobby, sucking in a startled breath.

"It's okay, Sam. It's okay." Bobby tells him, hands at Sam's shoulders.

Sam swallows hard, hazel eyes darting about the room before he looks back at Bobby.

"Dean," he swallows hard, "Where's Dean?" Sam asks breathlessly.

Bobby nods, "Dean's comin', Ellen jus' went ta go get him."

Sam presses his lips together, tearing his gaze from Bobby's as he nods.

Dream.

It had been a dream.

He hadn't made Dean leave. 

Bobby watches Sam with the keen eyes of a hunter, but doesn't remark about the fact that he knows Sam was having a nightmare.

"Suppers ready, I think Ellen was hopin' that you two would eat at the table," Bobby explains casually. 

Sam slowly looks up at Bobby and nods, "Mm, yeah, okay." 

*

Ellen walks toward the Impala, stepping around it as she looks for Dean, only to stop dead in her tracks at the scene before her.

Chocolate hued orbs dart about, taking in everything, a small gasp leaving her lips.

Dean hadn't heard anyone walk up as he cried softly, silently, it wasn't until he started to turn his head, to pull up and away from the demon that he saw the tips of Ellen's boots.

She stepped into view, just as Dean was pushing his upper body off the demons, palms flat against the ground on either side of Ruby's head.

Jade met chocolate as all the color slowly drained from Dean's face.

"Ellen..." her name a breath of air from his lips.

Ruby smirked up at Ellen, "Hey, baby."

Ellen's eyes narrow as she tears her gaze from Dean's to look down at her.

" _You_ shut the hell up, before I send your ass back to hell." Ellen tells her before looking back at Dean and giving him a disgusted look. 

Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and without a word, walking away from them both.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean grits his teeth together, as he watches Ellen start walking away.

_No, no, no…_

Ruby chuckles softly, "Guess she's a prude."

Dean tears his gaze away from Ellen to look down at Ruby, eyes narrowing, "Shut the hell up!" he snaps, pulling back, and to his feet, hands at his pants, his cock, tucking it back into his boxers and pulling his sweats up as he steps over Ruby, grabbing up his tee, he hurrys after Ellen.

"Ellen, wait!" Dean calls after her as he runs, slipping his tee over his head. 

But Ellen seems to not hear him, or be ignoring him, either way, she doesn't stop, just keeps walking toward the cabin.

**_"...As long as the wheels are turning, as long as the fires are burning, as long as your prayers are coming true, you better believe it. That I would do anything for love, and you know it's true and that's a fact…"_ **

_Oh God, no, no, don't tell Sam!_

Catching up to her just as Ellen started up the porch steps, Dean reaches out, grasping her shoulder.

"Ellen, please," Dean starts, but it's all he can get out, before Ellen spins around on a heel, hand raised and slaps him so hard across the face that Dean's head jerks to the side, her red hand-print marring his cheek.

Head hanging, eyes closed, Dean pauses as he fights to hold back emotions, his breaths panting out from running and the feelings, fear, anger, shame, and pain that are warring inside of him.

Slowly Dean turns his head looking back at her, jade meeting chocolate for a moment before his lips quirk slightly at the corner, "Jim?" he asks, brow quirking just slightly, a knowing look in his eye.

Ellen's eyes narrow a second before she draws back a fist, punching Dean square in the jaw as hard as she can, sending him falling backward, sprawled on the ground, smacking down hard on his ass.

Shaking her hand out as she glares at Dean, Ellen tears her gaze from him, turning to open the door, walking inside without a word, the door slamming closed behind her.

**_"...I would do anything for love, and there'll never be no turning back. But I'll never do it better than i do it with you, so long, so long. And I would do anything for love, oh I would do anything for love. I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, no, no, no I won't do that…_ **

*

Bobby was just helping Sam to the table when Ellen walked in the door, everyone turning their attention to her as she walked in, an angry look on her face, even though her head was hanging slightly, her gaze on the floor before her.

"Ellen? What is it?" Sam asks her, panic starting to rise within him. 

Was Dean leaving?

Had he done something stupid?

Ellen didn't answer, only walks past him and Bobby, around the table and into the kitchen.

"Ellen?" Sam calls after her, head turning to watch as she walks past him. 

Sam presses his lips together as he starts to pull away from Bobby, reaching for the pillar in the center of the room to lean on, intent on going outside, see what was wrong. 

Where was Dean?

Bobby tightens his grip on Sam, causing Sam to look at him as he shakes his head.

"Jus' sit down before ya fall down. I'll go see what's climbed up Ellen's skirt and find out where Dean is." Bobby told him with a nod.

Giving a small huff, Sam nods, moving to sit down at the table. 

Jo, who had stood when her mother came in, slowly sits back down in her seat at the table, her gaze darting between Bobby and Sam.

Once Sam is seated, Bobby releases him, stepping back, then around him and the table, heading into the kitchen after Ellen.

Sam turns his head watching him go, before catching site of Jo who is looking over at him, a look of sympathy on her face.

As his gaze meets hers, Jo reaches out, covering one of Sam's hands resting on the table with her own. 

"It'll be alright." Jo tells him softly.

Sam presses his lips together hard, giving a small nod, his head hanging. 

*

Sam.

Even as much as he just wants to lie there on the ground and rot, Dean knows he has to get in there and stop Ellen from telling Sam.

With a pained groan Dean pulls up from laying flat on his back, first sitting, then pulling to his feet, making his way to the front door.

**_"...I would do anything for love, anything you've been dreaming of, but I just won't do that. But I'll never stop dreaming of you every night of my life, no way. And I would do anything for love, oh I would do anything for love. I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, no I won't do that..."_ **

*

The sound of Bobby's boots against the wood floors stop just inside the kitchen as he pauses, his gaze on Ellen as she stands at the sink, hands braced, palm flat against the counter, her head hanging, eyes closed.

Bobby sighs heavily as he takes another step inside the room, "Well, let's hear it, what'd that idjit do now?"

*

The front door slowly opens, Dean stepping across the threshold and into the room, his gaze drawn automatically to and fixing on Sam seated at the table.

As the front door opens, Sam turns his head to look over, lips parting as he looks up at his brother. 

"Dean?" His name is an uncertain breath of air passing Sam's lips as hazel locks with jade. 

Neither move nor speak as they simply look at one another, uncertainty and regret, mixed with love shining in Sam's eyes. 

Dean's gaze full of guilt and remorse and the undeniable knowledge that he is not worthy of Sam's love. 

**_"Will you raise me up, will you help me down? Will you get me right out of this godforsaken town? Will you make it all a little less cold? I can do that! I can do that!"_ **

The slamming closed of the front door behind Dean seeming to snap him out of his stupor, tearing his gaze from Sam's, head hanging as he walks in, heading toward the bathroom.

Watching his brother walk, Sam's heart constricts, knowing he caused this, that it was his fault Dean was so hurt and upset.

Sam struggles to hurriedly rise to his feet, using the table and back of his chair as support, before he takes a rushed step forward, reaching out for the wall in front of him, closer to Dean so he can intercept his brother. 

"Dean, wait, please," Sam calls to him as he fights to make his legs listen to what his brain is telling them to do, nearly falling into his brother as Dean stops and stands stalk still, a soft sigh escaping his lips. 

**_"Will you hold me sacred? Will you hold me tight? Can you colorize my life, I'm so sick of black and white? Can you make it all a little less old?" "I can do that! Oh, oh, now I can do that!"_ **

Hands clutching at Dean's tee shirt, Sam looks into his brother's face, his own a mask of regret as he slowly shakes his head. 

"Dean," Sam starts, tears stinging his eyes, "I - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean -" Sam hangs his head, teeth clenching together as fingers dip deeper into the cotton of Dean's tee, his grip tightening.

Dean shakes his head as he looks at Sam, hands slowly rising to hold onto Sam, help him stand and selfishly, hold him to him. 

"Don't Sammy," Dean tells him softly, "Jus' don't." he leans in brushing his lips across Sam's brow as he lifts his head to look at Dean. "S'okay," Dean tells him with a nod, "S'okay."

The corners of Sam's lips twitch upward ever so slightly, before falling again as he licks his lips, brow furrowing. 

"I - what happened? Where are you going?" Sam asks, glancing from his brother to the front door, the bathroom and back to his brother's face.

Dean shakes his head with a sigh, "Uh, nothing, Sam. Nothing that meant anything, baby." Dean tells him, his chest aching with the knowledge of what he has done, of how this could destroy everything between himself and his brother.

If Ellen tells Sam what he has done, if Sam ever finds out, Dean could lose the one thing that is most important to him in the world, the one person he has always wanted and loved more than anything else. 

Sam glanced behind them at the table Ellen has set, food already laid out, the aroma of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and fresh corn on the cob filling the small cabin. 

"Ellen has dinner ready for us. I thought -" Sam tells him, pausing as he bites his lip unsure. 

"I just," Dean licks is lips nervously, "I need a shower," he gives Sam a nod, "That's all." He offers Sam a smile, though it doesn't really reach his eyes as his stomach flutters and rolls with 'butterfly' sensations. "I won't be long."

Sam nods, slowly releasing the death grip he has on Dean's tee, his feet shuffling backward slowly, the movement still clumsy and frustrating for Sam, but Dean holds onto him, helping him walk back to the table and reclaim his chair. 

Once Sam is seated, Dean takes a step back releasing his brother, his gaze darting to Jo who is watching them silently.

Dean tears his gaze from hers, afraid that the truth is somehow written in the green of his eyes, hanging his head.

Bringing one hand up to his mouth, Dean runs the pad of a thumb across his lips as he looks at Sam, "I won't be long." he repeats, taking another step back before turning and quickly making his way into the bathroom, the door softly closing behind him.

**_"Will you make me some magic, with your own two hands? Can you build an emerald city with these grains of sand? Can you give me something I can take home?" "I can do that! Oh, oh now, I can do that!"_ **

Once the door is closed, Dean leans back against it and closes his eyes, tries to close out the world and the memory of how badly he once again fucked up. 

"God, Ellen, please don't tell Sam, please." Dean whispers, like a prayer, into the emptiness of the bathroom, his chest aching, head rolling against the wood door. 

He knows if Sam finds out it's over, that he's going to lose Sam in more ways that he can even contemplate, and that in losing Sam he will have lost everything.

Some part of Dean just wants to stay there with his eyes closed, the door of the bathroom closing him off from the rest of the world. 

Just stay like that for the rest of his life, so he doesn't have to face any of them, face how he once again messed up and let Sam down.

But, he can hear himself telling Sam that he won't be long and it's that, that small promise that he made to Sam that has Dean opening his eyes and pulling away from the door.

Stepping toward the shower, his hands go to the hem of his tee, pulling it up and over his head. 

Dropping the garment on the floor, Dean reaches into the shower, turning on the water, getting the temperature right, then reaches for the waistband of his sweats and boxers as he toes off his shoes.

Pushing his pants and boxers off, Dean tugs off his socks and slips into the shower, closing his eyes as he simply stands under the warm spray. 

_So sorry, Sammy…_

**_"Will you cater to every fantasy I got? Will ya hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot? Will you take me places I've never known?" "I can do that! Oh, oh now, I can do that!"_ **

Sam... Sam was sorry. He looked so damn regretful, so fuckin' guilty. 

Dean sighs, reaching out to brace his hands, palms flat against the tiled wall, head bowed.

_You have nothin' to be sorry about, baby. I do._

Squeezing his eyes closed, Dean lets out a hot breath of air, slumping more against the shower wall.

What was he gonna do if Ellen told?

What was he gonna tell Sam?

He had no excuse, there was nothing he could say. 

A low whimper sounds from deep in Dean's throat before the first sob shakes his frame. 

**_"After a while you'll forget everything. It was a brief interlude and a midsummer night's fling. And you'll see that it's time to move on. I won't do that! no I won't do that!_ **

"Sammy..." Dean cries softly, tears blending with the water from the shower to slid down his face. 

"M'so sorry... I didn't mean to..." Dean's words die off as he knows what garbage they are. 

Didn't mean to... _didn't mean to_... what kind of horse shit was that? 

How can you screw around and not _mean to_?

Oh God...

**_"I know the territory, I've been around. It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down. And sooner or later, you'll be screwing around." "I won't do that! no I won't do that!"_ **

Dean's tears fall faster, his sobs coming harder as he slowly slides down against the back of the shower, sitting curled in a ball on the shower floor weeping softly. 

He's done it, he's fucked things up so badly now, that he knows he's going to lose Sam... it's only a matter of time. 

**_"Anything for love, oh I would do anything for love… I would do anything for love, but I won't do that, no I won't do that..." ~ Anything For Love, Meatloaf_ ** ____

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

Twenty minutes later, Dean opens the bathroom door, dirty clothes in hand, a towel slung low on his hips as he walks across toward the bedroom he shares with Sam.

His attention is focused dead on the rooms open door, not looking over at the table, at those seated there, but he can feel Sam's eyes on him.

Sam, Ellen, Bobby, Jo, yeah, he can feel them all watching him as he walks across the room, but he makes himself not look over.

Afraid that they might all see the truth written in his eyes. 

A soft prayer chanting over and over in his mind directed at Ellen.

_Don't tell, please don't tell._

Sam looks up and over toward the bathroom as soon as he hears the turning of the door knob, the food on his plate forgotten as he watches Dean walk out and toward their bedroom. 

Ellen had only come back moments before, her and Bobby sitting down and starting to load everyone's plates with food.

Everyone's except Dean's, which sat cold and empty beside Sam.

Sam had asked Ellen what happened, what was wrong, but she had only given him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes and asked if he wanted gravy on his mashed potatoes. 

Her lack of a response had only added to Sam's fear and anxiety.

Now, with Dean quickly making his way into the bedroom, without even a look or mention of the food, made Sam only feel that much worse.

As the bedroom door clicks softly closed behind Dean, Sam hangs his head with a sigh, his hands resting on the table top curling into fists.

"Ignore him, Sam and eat." Ellen tells him as she eyes Sam.

Sam lifts his head to look at Ellen, his brow furrowing as hazel meets brown. 

Sam licks his lips as he gives his head a small shake, "What's going on?" 

Ellen tears her gaze from Sam's, looking back at the food before her. 

"Supper." she tells him, her tone brooking no further discussion about it.

Pulling a hand off the table, Sam reaches for the napkin on his lap and tosses it up onto the table as he struggles to his feet, using the table to balance himself.

"I can't do this." Sam mumbles softly, shaking his head as he stumble steps toward the bedroom. 

Sam's legs are still very weak and don't totally listen to the commands of his brain, so when he starts fall, it's not surprising. 

Not really.

Reaching out, Sam catches himself, his hand slapping against the pillar in the center of the room as he grabs at it to keep himself from falling. 

"Sam," Jo calls out, her chair sliding against the wood floor as she pulls to her feet intent on going to him to help him.

Not looking back at her, Sam shakes his head, "No, I'm - I'm okay. I can do this." he tells her stubbornly, chin raising to a stubborn angle.

Ellen reaches over to her daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder and slowly Jo sits back down. 

Bobby sighs softly, "At least finish yer dinner, Sam. Dean's alright."

Sam shakes his head, though he still doesn't look back, "No. I need to see him. Find out what's wrong, if he's okay." Sam tells him, taking another step, stumbling forward as he slowly releases the pillar, nearly falling down once more as there is nothing to hold on to between the pillar and the bedroom door. 

Falling face first against the wall, Sam catches himself, palms flat against the wall, head turned to the side a grunt of pain leaving him.

"Sam!" Bobby nearly growls out at him through clenched teeth as he watches Sam.

_Stubborn ass idjit_

Sam slides one hand down the wall to the door handle, turning it and pushing open the door. 

Returning his hand to the wall, Sam pushes himself away from it, struggling to make his feet, his legs, do as his brain wants them to and walk into the bedroom. 

Stocking feet slide across the wood floor as Sam steps slowly inside the bedroom, hand braced on the wall to steady himself. 

Sam's gaze darts about the room, seeking out and finding his brother, who's back is to him as he pulls jeans up over his boxers, fastening them as he glances back at Sam before turning around.

As Sam watches Dean, he manages to move further into the room, pushing the door until it clicks closed. 

"Dean?" Sam's voice is soft and full of questions, questions Dean doesn't want to answer, doesn't know how to answer.

Dean glances at his brother's face, tearing his gaze away quickly as he licks his lips, afraid, so very afraid that Sam might know, might find out, read it on his own face somewhere. 

"Sam." Dean answers softly, looking away from his brother as he brings a hand up, wiping over his mouth, his gaze darting everywhere but at Sam.

His head is still pounding out a painful rhythm against his skull and his stomach feels like he's about to puke again, but that's the least of Dean's concerns right now. The least of his worries. Sam. All Dean cares about, all he can think about is Sam. 

About how he fucked up, how he is going to lose Sam now and there isn't a goddamn thing he can say or do to stop it, and Dean hates that helpless feeling. 

Sam's brows furrow, his heart aching as he looks at Dean, who doesn't even seem to be able to look at him anymore.

_I did this. My fault._

Sam swallows hard, tears pricking his eyes as he shakily makes his way closer to his brother, his steps slow and weak, using the dresser for balance.

**_"I don't wanna hear about it anymore. It's a shame I've got to live without you anymore. There's a fire in my heart, a pounding in my brain, it's driving me crazy..."_ **

Reaching his brother, Sam reaches out with a hand, one going to Dean's shoulder, the other reaching slowly up to cup his brother's face as he gazes sorrowfully into it.

"I - I meant what I said. I'm so sorry." Sam tells him softly.

Dean shakes his head slightly as he looks at Sam, his own eyes pricking with unshed tears. 

"No," Dean tells him, a mere whisper of breath, "don't be sorry, Sam. Just don't, please." 

Sam's hand at Dean's shoulder grips tighter, fingertips digging into Dean's bare flesh, the hand at Dean's cheek, slowly sliding down to rest against his opposite shoulder in a lose fist as Sam grits his teeth, taking in a breath shakily. 

"I am," Sam nods, jaw clenching, "M'sorry." he swallows, "I never meant to hurt you," Sam tells him, his face twisting in disgust as he looks away, down at the floor, the spot where he had attacked his brother. 

"Never meant to do those things to you." Sam sneers in disgust at himself, his gaze going back to his brother's face as he shakes his head.

"I know better than anyone how horrible -" Sam lets his sentence die off as he hangs his head, eyes squeezing closed. 

_Sam could hear the chains secured to his wrists as they jingled in the silence of the room._

_Of his own hell._

_Could feel the bed dipping as someone climbed climbing onto the cot, felt as his chest was straddled._

_He remembered trying to pull away, pull up, shrink down, but hands were at his feet in an instant holding him still._

_More hands, other hands were at his head, tilting it back._

_He’d tried to thrash his head, to get away, but his mouth was pried open, his head held still, and the burning liquid poured down his throat, even as he tried not to swallow it._

_God he how he had chocked and sputtered, but it went down, lots of it, much to his horror._

_He’d tried to scream, to yell 'no' to fight, but hands, so many hands and the chains._

_And then suddenly his legs had been picked up, pulled high as the old men knelt between his legs on the cot._

_“No,” He remembered pleading, muttering as his head rolled, “no, don't.”_

_Hands, so many hands, so many holding him, and knees against his ribs so he couldn't lift up, try to buck away._

_He'd tugged uselessly at the chains._

_“No,” a sob had torn at his throat that he’d swallowed down, burned his esophagus and stomach, made his chest ache._

_Sam remembered how he had screamed as the guys cock rammed into his ass, the burning pain, the horrible feeling of violation, how he had felt so dirty, used, wanted to just die._

Dean shakes his head slowly, "No." he tells Sam softly, "S'not the same." 

Slowly, his hand shaking, Dean raises it to smooth back Sam's hair from his forehead before slipping it around to cup Sam's chin, slowly pulling his head up, making Sam look at him, as he takes a step closer to his baby brother, his free arm circling around Sam's waist, pulling him in. 

Dean can see he's nearly lost Sam to the darkness, can see the way his usually sparkling hazel's have sort of glazed over. 

"Shshsh, Sammy, s'okay. I gotcha, I gotcha," Dean softly soothes.

**_"...We don't need to talk about it anymore. Yesterdays just a memory, can we close the door? I just made one mistake, I didn't know what to say when you called me, baby…_ **

Leaning in Dean brushes his lips across Sam's furrowed brow, before dipping his head, mouth near Sam's ear.

"You're not there, Sammy. You're here, with me. You're safe and you're with me. No ones ever gonna hurt you again, baby. I promise." Dean tells him softly, his eyes fluttering closed.

No one 'cept me when you find out what I've done.

Sam's shaking hands move slowly against Dean's shoulders, smoothing over skin as he draws in a deep shuddering breath and nods slightly.

"M'okay," Sam mumbles softly, pulling, clawing his own way out of the darkness, only needing Dean to light the way now. 

Dean exhales softly as his eyes flutter open, pulling his head back to look into his brother's face.

"Y'okay? Ya with me, baby?" Dean asks him as one hand moves to cup Sam's cheek, the one around Sam's waist tightening slightly.

Sam nods, as Dean's thumb runs slowly over his little brother's cheek bone, jade orbs searching his face.

"I love you, Sammy," Dean tells him, jaw clenching, muscle twitching before he gives his head a tight shake, "no matter what happens, I want you to promise me that you'll always remember that." 

Sam swallows and licks his lips, brows furrowing as he looks at Dean, "What's wrong? What happened outside?" 

Dean sighs heavily, tearing his gaze from Sam's as he looks down.

"Nothin', Sammy. Nothin' that matters." Dean says before slowly looking back up into Sam's face, seeing how Sam doesn't believe that it's 'nothing'.

With a huffed breath, Dean pulls his hand from Sam's face to dry scrub his own, taking a step back, though he still has a hold of Sam's waist.

"I," Dean begins, only to pause, not knowing where to go from there exactly. 

Swallowing the truth like a jagged pill, Adam's apple bobbing, Dean nods, "I beat the hell outta my car. Ellen found me acting like an ass and she got pissed at me. I said something stupid, wanting someone else to hurt like I was, so..." Dean huffed, "she punched me."

Emotions flickered across Sam's face as Dean spoke, worry and guilt, then sorrow and regret, only to be replaced by mild shock. 

Sam's eyes widened as he looked at his brother, a small smile tugging at his lips, "Ellen _punched_ you!?" Sam asked him, a small chuckle working out of him.

Dean frowned, "It isn't that funny."

Sam nodded, "Oh yeah, yeah it is." he chuckled more, his balance teetering as he did, making Dean tighten his grip on Sam, catching him from toppling over. 

"Sam..." Dean sighed, glancing toward the bed, "I think you need to get back in bed." 

His body pressed closer to Dean's, Sam's chuckles died away as he looked into his brother's face.

"Lay with me?" Sam asked him, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth, catching it between straight white teeth.

Dean swallows any sarcastic remarks about the fact that lately his ass has been pressed to a mattress more than any whore's and gives a small nod, his hand on Sam's side running slowly over his brother's flesh.

"Yeah, Sammy. 'Kay, I will." Dean agrees because as girly as it might be, Dean can't help eating up any and every chance to be with Sam right now, just because it might be the last.

Selfish, yeah, he knows.

**_"...Don't say goodnight, say you're gonna stay forever, Oh, whoa, all the way. Can you take me high enough to fly me over yesterday? Can you take me high enough? It's never over and yesterday's just a memory, Yesterday's just a memory..."_ **

Dean braces Sam as he turns toward the bed, slowly making his way over to it, reaching out a hand as they near, Sam grasps the foot-board, nodding to Dean. 

"S'okay, I got it. I can do it now." Sam tells him, sounding almost winded. 

Dean slowly releases his hold on Sam, biting his lip as he watches Sam carefully lower himself down onto the mattress, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Looking up at his brother, Sam can't help the small pink stain that flushes his cheeks.

"Still kinda sore." Sam mumbles, quickly tearing his gaze away, head hanging.

"Yeah well, you're a bigger man than me," Dean grumbles, "I'd be whining for Ellen to bring me more damn pillows for my ass."

Sam gives a soft choked snicker as he nods, still not looking up.

Leave it to Dean to break the awkward embarrassing moment with a joke. 

Slowly Sam raises his head, hazel locking with green. 

"Thank you." Sam tells him softly.

Dean's lips quirk slightly at the corners as he shrugs a shoulder, "S'true and you know it." he tells Sam pointedly, before turning to walk around to the other side of the bed.

Sam nods, a small smile still pulling at his lips as he eases himself more onto the bed, lifting his legs up onto the mattress before rolling over onto his side.

Climbing onto the bed, Dean lays down next to his brother on his side, facing him.

Jade gazing into hazel as they look at one another, neither moving, each simply looking at the other, love shining in their eyes, arms curled in against their chests, hands curled into fists.

"Hi." Sam says softly, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly.

Dean's lips curve just slightly into a soft smile, "Hi, baby."

Sam's smile widens for a moment before his gaze flickers down to Dean's arms against his chest, then back up to his face.

"Hold me?" Sam asks softly.

Dean nods, one arm reaching out to wrap around his brother, pulling him in closer as Dean scoots in at the same time.

Slipping his other arm under Sam, Dean wraps him in his arms, sighing softly.

Sam buries his face against Dean's neck, his warm breaths fanning the sensitive flesh for a few moments before Dean feels Sam kiss him softly there. 

Dean's gaze flickers down to Sam, his grip around him tightening as he closes his eyes, rolling them, so that he's on his back, pulling Sam over on top of him.

Sam's lips part, pressing them to Dean's neck, teeth scraping across the tender flesh. 

Dean's eyes open wide, staring up at the ceiling. 

_It didn't mean anything. Sam didn't mean anything by it. It was nothing._ Dean tells himself, swallowing hard before he clears his throat, resettling his arms around Sam. 

Again he feels Sam's mouth at his neck, this time not only is his mouth open, teeth scraping, but Dean's pretty damn sure he just felt his tongue press hesitantly against the flesh of his neck.

"S - Sammy?"

"Mmm?" Sam answers, as he continues to kiss Dean's neck, slowly making his way upward toward Dean's jawline.

Dean wiggles, his head lifting, chin tilting upward away from Sam's wondering lips.

"Sam, baby, what -" Dean licks his lips nervously, "what are you doing?"

Sam doesn't answer as he works his mouth back down along Dean's jaw, kissing a path down Dean's chest.

_Oh God…_

Dean bites back the moan that wants to spill out. 

Good God he doesn't deserve this. 

He's not worthy of Sam's affections, not now, not after what he did, he knows it and it makes his chest ache, nearly as much as his damned cock is starting to as Sam twirls his tongue around one of Dean's nipples. 

Stop.

He's gotta stop Sam.

It's too damned soon and he doesn't fuckin' deserve this. 

Not now, not ever again. 

Pulling his arms from around Sam, hands at his shoulders, Dean tries to push him away.

"Sam, baby, stop," Dean directs gently though he sounds nearly panicked as he feels his fuckin' cock twitch and pulse, knows Sam is gonna feel it, even through the denim of his jeans soon if he hasn't already.

**_"...And I don't want to live without you anymore. Can't you see I'm in misery? And you know for sure I would live and die for you and I'd know just what to do when you call me baby..."_ **

Sam pulls his head back, hazel orbs staring into green as Sam swallows, lips parting as he looks at Dean.

"Oh," Sam mumbles as he tears his gaze from Dean, nodding. 

"I'm sorry." Sam tells him softly, swallowing back the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes as he hung his head.

" _When we're through wit you yer brother ain't even gonna wanna look atcha."_

_"Dirty slut."_

_"Such a good whore."_

Sam squeezes his eyes closed, sniffling softly.

"I - I know... I'm dirty... I'm sorry." he tells Dean softly, fighting to not slid back into the darkness, voice quivering, his hands trembling where they lay against his brother before he slowly pulls them back, curling them into fists and starts to try to roll away.

The pained look of shame on Sam's face, if not his words, made the cold hollow area where his heart once stood constrict and ache like a sonuvabitch as he clutched at Sam, pulling him up against him more.

"No, Sammy, no." Dean shook his head as Sam's tear-filled eyes met his. 

"You're not dirty, you'll never be dirty to me, baby." Dean told him softly, one hand moving to smooth back Sam's long bangs from his face. 

"I just," Dean licked his lips, "I don't want to hurt you and it's -" Dean sighed softly, "it's too soon, I don't want to lose you to that dark place you slide into sometimes, Sam. I just want you to heal, get better."

The pained look in Sam's eyes as he gazes at Dean, has the elder brother biting his lip.

Dean can see Sam thinking his words over, weighing them, can almost see the wheels turning in Sam's head. 

Finally Sam sucks in an unsteady breath, swallowing as his brow furrows.

Dean's gaze drops to Sam's throat, watching his Adam's apple bob, unable to look into those damn wounded puppy eyes any longer. 

"I - I think I'm okay," Sam tells him, making Dean's gaze return to his face. 

"I can do this, I want to, need to." Sam tells him as he leans in slightly closer, "Please let me."

Dean swallows hard, eyes squeezing closed.

_Oh Sammy... you have no idea... I know I shouldn't let you... but I'm weak. I'm sorry Sam, but I am._

Dean's eyes slowly open, the green of his irises sparkling like emeralds, tears in his eyes.

"Okay, Sammy, okay." Dean whispers softly, head sliding on the pillow toward Sam.

Dean lifts his head off the pillow, burying his face against his brother's neck, breathing in the scent that is Sam, fingers digging into his flesh as he clutches him harder, holding onto him as tightly as he can, as if somehow it might keep Sam from leaving him later.

**_"...Don't say goodbye, say you're gonna stay forever, Oh, whoa, all the way. Can you take me high enough? Can you fly me over yesterday?Can you take me high enough? It's never over and yesterday's just a memory..."_ **

Dean's head slowly lowers back down against the pillow as Sam leans in more, his mouth at Dean's neck, once more trailing open mouthed kisses and licks, nips and soft suction against the tender flesh of his throat, making Dean gasp and moan softly, his breaths quicken. 

How long had it been since he'd felt his brother's touch? 

A fuckin' year. 

Eternity.

Sam's hands, calloused from hunts, yet softer now from a year of non use, slide over his skin, touching, exploring, mapping out, as if it were their first time all over again.

Only this time, he can feel the tiny shudders that wrack Sam's frame, the hesitation in his movements.

"S'good, baby. S'okay, I gotcha." Dean tells him softly, holding onto Sam just a little tighter.

A small whimper leaves Sam, muffled against the flesh of Dean's neck before hot breath fans his skin. 

"S'okay," Sam whispers, "M'okay." 

Dean's hands slide over Sam's back, down to the waistband of his sweats and back up, carding through his soft thick locks before wrapping once again around his little brother's body.

"Yeah you are." Dean tells him softly, "Never gonna let you go."

**_"...I was running, I was running for the door, realizing now or never. I was running back for more. Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..."_ **

Sam slowly lifts his head, lips are parted, cheeks flushed a soft pink, breaths panting out as he looks down at Dean.

So fuckin' beautiful.

As Sam leans in, Dean lifts his head off the pillow, meeting him half way.

Mouths crush together, open and searching, hungry and needful, desperate kisses, tongues tangling, teeth clanking together as each moves their head side to side, devouring one another in the kiss. 

Dean's head falls back against the pillow and Sam chases after his lips, the contact never breaking, kiss lingering as each maps out the others mouth, soft moans and groans sounding deep in their throats. 

Hands run over one another's bodies, exploring, searching, remembering.

Dean's hands are at the hem of Sam's tee pulling it up before he even realizes he's doing it.

The kiss breaks just long enough for Dean to pull the tee over Sam's head and toss it away before his arms are wrapped back around Sam, their lips urgently crushing together once more.

**_"...Don't say goodbye, say you're gonna stay forever, Oh, whoa, all the way, all the way, Come all the way, yeah..."_ **

Dean's hand finds it's way down to Sam's ass, gripping an ass cheek, as he writhes under him, his cock so fuckin' hard Dean's not sure how his zipper hasn't busted.

One of Sam's hands pull from Dean's hair, reaching back to grasp Dean's wrist, pulling his brother's hand off his ass, replacing it on his lower back, before releasing and returning his hand to Dean's hair, fingers threading through the soft short strands as they continue to kiss. 

**_"...Can you take me high enough? Can you fly me over yesterday? Can you take me high enough? It's never over, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa._ **

Dean tears his lips from Sam, breaths panting out as he looks up at Sam, "Ssss-" it's all Dean can get out of his 'sorry', before Sam is leaning in again, tongue lapping at his mouth, licking his lip open, delving his tongue inside.

A long low moan breaks from Dean's throat, arms tightening around Sam, fingertips digging into flesh where old bruises are healing, old cuts and scabbed and nearly gone. 

Sam doesn't even flinch at that, at the small tiny pains that his brother's clinging might cause.

These keep him grounded, keep him here out of the darkness, knowing that it's Dean holding onto him so tightly that he can't fall into that abyss that always lurks just outside of his vision, where he can't see to side step it, but instead fall head first into it's dark murky depths. 

Dean can feel Sam's hard cock pressing into is hip, can feel it through the layer of cotton and denim separating them, knows that Sam has to be feeling his own, like a goddamn metal pipe against his hip, encased in denim.

Abruptly, Sam tears his lips from Dean's, leaving him panting and gazing up at his baby brother in slight confusion.

Sam sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting Dean there and it warms him, chasing away any doubts and fears as he pulls back, straddling his brother's thighs, his gaze locked with Dean's as his hands go to the fastenings of his brother's jeans, unbuttoning them and slowly sliding the zipper down.

Dean shakes his head, "Sam, we don't have to -"

"Shshsh," Sam interrupts him, "I'm okay." he tells Dean softly, tearing his gaze from Dean's to look down at his brother, watch as he hooks his thumbs inside the denim and cotton, pulling his brother's jeans and boxers down.

_You're okay?... Hell, I dunno if I am…_

Dean's gaze drops from Sam's face to watch as he watches his hard cock slowly be revealed to his brother, breath hitching as Sam reaches out a large hand and curls it around his throbbing length. 

"Oh God... Sammy..." Dean groans softly, head rolling on the pillow.

Sam glances up at his brother's face, before looking back down and pulling up to his knees, so he can inch more of the denim and cotton down with his free hand.

Wiggling under his brother, Dean helps Sam get his jeans and boxers off.

Tossing them onto the floor, Sam turns his attention to Dean's cock that he's had a near death grip on the entire time and slowly starts to pump his hand up and down his brother's thick length.

Dean's eyes squeeze closed as he moans softly, tongue darting out to lick his lips as his head rolls on the pillow. 

"Oh God, Sammy..." the words are a breathless whisper that tumbles from Dean's lips as his hips start to thrust up into Sam's fisted hand. 

Sam leans down over Dean, intent on licking a trail over his full lips, only to have Dean wrap his arms around him tightly, a growl tearing from his throat as he slants his mouth over Sam's, tongue plunging deep into his baby brother's mouth. 

Sam tries to keep the pumping rhythm going on Dean's cock, but the angle, the way Dean is pulling on him he has to release it, use that hand to brace himself against the bed, his body still not quite strong enough to manage without a little added support. 

As Sam nearly collapses onto Dean, braced on one hand, palm flat against the mattress, Dean starts to roll them, pinning Sam under him.

He wants so badly to thrust his hips, his hard weeping cock against Sam's that he's not totally thinking clearly as one hand moves to start tugging Sam's sweats and boxers down.

Doesn't register Sam's distress as he starts to wiggle and squirm under him.

It isn't until the loud harsh whine tears from Sam's throat that Dean tears his lips from Sam's and pulls back, rolling them so that Sam is on top once more. 

Passion glazed jade eyes stare wide up into his brother's face as Dean swallows hard, his gaze searching Sam's flushed face. 

"Sammy, m'sorry, m'so sorry, baby," Dean tells him quickly.

Sam swallows, eyes squeezing closed for only a moment before opening as he lets out a hot breath and shakes his head. 

"No, s'okay. M'okay," Sam assures breathlessly, even though his heart is beating out a fearful rhythm in his chest, banging against his ribs, his hands shaking. 

**_"...Can you take me high enough? Won't you fly me over yesterday? Can you take me high enough? It's never over, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." ~ High Enough, Damn Yankees._ **


	9. Chapter 9

Dean shakes his head as he raises a hand to cup the side of his brother's face. 

"We don't have to do this, Sam." Dean tells him softly, even though his body is screaming at him, calling him three kinds of a fool.

Sam presses his lips together, swallowing before his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Dean. 

He can taste Dean there and it helps.

"No," Sam tells him softly as he shakes his head, "I want to."

**_"If you've got love in your sights, watch out, love bites…  
When you make love, do you look in the mirror? Who do you think of, does he look like me? Do you tell lies and say that it's forever? Do you think twice, or just touch 'n' see? Ooh babe ooh yeah..."_ **

Dean knows he shouldn't.

Knows he should tell Sam no, that it's too soon, that he's pushing himself, but he can't seem to find his voice right then and especially not as Sam leans in again, brushing his lips over his, his large hand wrapping around Dean's throbbing cock. 

"Jesus, Sammy..." Dean hisses the words between clenched teeth as his hips buck his dick up into his brother's fisted hand, a soft moan tearing from his throat.

Somehow they end up turning, both onto their sides facing one another, Sam's hand still slowly pumping his brother's cock, their lips brushing, soft lingering kisses against one another, Dean's arms wrapped around Sam protectively.

Dean hisses in a breath as his eyes close, head sliding forward against the pillows, burying his face against the crook of Sam's neck.

Sam's eyelids slowly flutter closed as he turns his head into Dean, parted lips panting out his breaths. 

His cock is achingly hard, but Sam doesn't care, ignores it, doesn't want to acknowledge that part of himself. 

This isn't for him anyway. 

It's for Dean, just Dean.

 _So sorry, I hurt you, babe. Love you so much._ Sam thinks as he breaths in his brother's scent, catching his bottom lips between straight white teeth. 

_"Such a good hot fuck, pretty boy."_

_"Hey! Hey! Hey! Save some a that fer me!"_

_"Ya got 'im bleedin' again!"_

_"Aw, it's jus' lube fer the bitch!"_

_What a good perty slut he is."_

Sam squeezes his eyes tight, lifting his head and turning it more toward Dean, a soft whimper escaping him.

Dean's hands clutch at Sam, moans spilling from his lips, the feel of his brother's hand pumping him so good making him nearly mindless.

"Ssa - Sammy?" Dean mumbles out breathlessly, pulling his head back to look into Sam's face. 

Sam forces himself to open his eyes, to see Dean there before him, to smell Dean and not the stench that fills his memories. 

**_"...When you're alone, do you let go? Are you wild 'n' willin' or is it just for show? Ooh c'mon… I don't wanna touch you too much baby 'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy, I know you think that love is the way you make it, so I don't wanna be there when you decide to break it… No!_ **

Jade orbs search Sam's flushed face, "You okay, baby?" Dean asks him, the words breathless and soft. 

Sam nods, pressing his lips together, nostrils flaring.

Dean's hand move to each side of Sam's face as jade orbs continue to search his face, studying the almost glazed look in his eyes, trying to decide if it's passion or the darkness slowly creeping in on them.

"Sammy, say somethin' to me." Dean tells him softly.

Sam's brows raise in an almost pained expression, brow furrowing. 

"I love you." he tells Dean softly, pulling his head down, hanging it, even with Dean trying to hold on to him there. 

The empty place in Dean's chest constricts again, love for his brother filling him to over lowing, till he feels like he's gonna fuckin' explode with it.

Hands moving, Dean wraps his arms around Sam, pulling him in close and slanting his mouth over his brother's, showing him with the kiss just how much he loves and adores Sam.

When Dean's lips pull from Sam's, he's not finished as he kisses Sam's eyelids, his cheek bones, his chin, that damned-able mole on the side of his face, near his nose. 

Dean's soft full lips move to the sides of his brother's mouth, causing Sam's lips to part, his mouth to open, breaths panting out as Dean showers his face with kisses, his hands running over Sam's half naked body, sweats and boxers still half down. 

Sam's hand on Dean's cock is moving faster now, squeezing as he pivots his wrist.

Dean's hands slid up Sam's body, cupping each side of Sam's head as his tongue flicks in and out of Sam's mouth hard, tongue fucking him there as his hips thrust his cock hard into Sam's fist, low groans and moans spilling from each.

Heat pools low in Dean's stomach, chiseled abs flexing and tightening, balls drawing up tight as he continues to kiss Sam.

**_"...Love bites, love bleeds, It's bringin' me to my knees. Love lives, love dies. It's no surprise... Love begs, love pleads… It's what I need..."_ **

Crushing his lips to Sam's Dean cries out his brother's name as he cums, hard and hot over his brother's fist.

Panting his breaths against Sam's lips, into his mouth, Dean can feel Sam's hard cock pressing into his hip.

Pulling his head back slowly, Dean looks into Sam's face, jade orbs searching it to be sure Sam's okay. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean lets it out slow as he tries to find himself again, get his breathing under control. 

"S'good, Sammy," Dean tells him breathlessly, eyes closing as he swallows, before opening once more.

In the time it takes Dean's eyes to close and open, Sam flinches slightly at Dean's words, jaw clenching, though he pushes himself past it.

It's not them, it's Dean. Dean telling you that, Dean who you're with. Dean.

Dean doesn't miss the small change in Sam's expression, even as he tries to hide it quickly.

"Sam? Are you -?"

"Dean," 

Dean can hear the exasperation in his brother's voice and presses his lips together, giving him a curt nod.

Yeah, okay, you win, Sam. 

Dean rolls over with a sniff, reaching for the t-shirt off the floor, then rolls back handing it to Sam.

"Here." Dean tells him, watching as Sam takes the tee, wiping his hand off.

Once Sam has his hand clean he tosses the tee back onto the floor before looking back at Dean, offering a small tight smile.

"M'okay." Sam tells him with a nod.

Sighing heavily, Dean lays his head down on the pillows, his gaze fixed on his brother.

Sam lays is head down beside Dean, looking back at him, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Love you, Sammy." Dean whispers softly.

Sam's lips quirk slightly at the corners as he leans in and brushes his lips across Dean's.

One of Dean's hands lift off the bed to run slowly up Sam's side, pausing at his chest, thumb making slow circles around Sam's nipple.

Sam's breaths hitch as he rounds his shoulders slightly, pulling back from the touch, even as the small numb hardens, his still erect cock twitching against Dean's hip.

"Wanna make you feel good too, Sammy... can I?" Dean asks him softly.

Sam presses his lips together as he tears his gaze away from Dean's, looking down.

Taking in a breath, Sam licks his lips.

"I -I'm scared." he confesses quietly, his voice so soft Dean has to strain to hear it. 

Dean sighs softly as he nods, moving his hand from Sam's side he curls his index finger, hooking it under Sam's chin, tilting his head up so he can look into his brother's face.

"S'okay to be scared, Sam." Dean tells him, "And we don't have to, s'okay."

Sam frowns, muscle in his jaw twitching. 

"No, I - it's okay, I'll be okay." Sam tells him, tilting his chin in a stubborn angle. 

Dean lets out a nearly amused breath as he shakes his head. 

"You're such a stubborn ass, Sam." he tells him, the corners of his lips quirking slightly.

Sam huffs softly.

"And it beats the hell outta me where you get it from, cause ya know," Dean shrugs a shoulder, "I'm awesome." he teases with a grin.

Sam's lips curve into a genuine smile that makes his dimples show, his hazel eyes sparkle.

Dean thinks it's probably the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Yeah," Sam agrees with a nod as he leans in, his lips a breath away from Dean's, "you are." he tells him softly before slanting his mouth over his brother's, licking the seam of Dean's lips before pressing his tongue inside. 

Dean moans softly, wrapping his arms around his brother as he rolls onto his back, bringing Sam over with him, tongues tangling, hands exploring once more.

Dean slides one hand down Sam's back and around, slipping it between them to wrap around Sam's hard as steel cock that has been jabbing Dean in the hip, so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he had a bruise there. 

Sam gasps in a breath, though their mouths are still pressed together.

Dean's eyes slowly open to find Sam looking down at him.

"Sammy?" Dean asks softly, his lips brushing Sam's as he speaks, breaths panting into one another's mouths.

Sam's lips press together as he swallows, his grip on Dean tightening. 

He nods, as his eyes squeeze closed and open, "Yeah, s'okay. I - I'm okay."

Dean breaths out a hot breath as he turns his head to the side.

He's so not fucking sure about this.

Yeah, Dean wants to give Sam pleasure, but not at the expense of him slipping into someplace dark where he can't reach him. 

Looking back at his brother Dean nods, "Okay, we go slow." 

Sam nods, "Yeah, m'kay."

"Okay." Dean agrees softly, lifting his head off the pillow to press his lips to Sam's, slowly licking his lips open, tongue delving into his mouth. 

The tip of Dean's tongue running over the roof of Sam's mouth, along the backs of his teeth, then tangling with Sam's own tongue, soft low moans breaking from their throats, mingle together and are swallowed up in the kiss. 

Dean's hand slowly starts to pump Sam's cock as the kiss continues, his free hand running soothingly up and down Sam's back.

Slowly Dean starts to roll them both onto their sides, facing one another, the angle better now as he doubles his efforts to stroke Sam.

Sam tenses, arching against Dean, hips thrusting his hard cock into his brother's fist, hands grasping at Dean, clinging tightly. 

Moans and whimpers sound from Sam's throat.

**_"...When I'm with you are you somewhere else? Am I gettin' thru or do you please yourself? When you wake up will you walk out? It can't be love if you throw it about. Ooh babe… I don't wanna touch you too much baby, 'Cos making love to you might drive me crazy..."_ **

Breaking the kiss slowly, sucking Sam's bottom lip as he does, Dean pulls his head back, gazing at Sam's face, searching it, making sure he's alright.

Sam's eyes remain closed, squeezing tighter now as he catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring. 

"Sammy, s'me, baby, s'me." Dean tells him softly, his gaze laser focused on Sam's face, watching each expression that flickers across it.

Sam nods as his lip slowly slides from between his teeth, wet and red, slightly swollen from their kissing and his biting it. 

"I - I know." Sam answers softly, his words breathless.

Dean gives a small nod and tears his gaze from Sam's face, his eyes moving downward, taking in the way Sam's body looks.

Recognising some things, others standing out as glaringly different.

Some of the scars are from hunts, Dean can name each one.

The others, the now yellow/green bruises, are all reminders of the hell Sam has been through.

The hell Dean failed to save him from.

Dean's gaze lowers to his hand sliding up and down Sam's cock, wet and slick with precum.

The bite marks are lighter, but still painfully visible, especially now in his erect state. 

The slash marks have turned into bright pink zigzags, no longer red and angry looking, but still there and still a reminder.

The piercing hole seems to be no more than a dot now, no bigger than one of Dean's freckles, though it is still slightly red and sore looking. 

Sam's body stills, his hips no longer bucking, his grip on Dean loosening, a soft anguished whine tearing from his throat causing Dean to tear his gaze from Sam's body to quickly look up at his face.

Sam's face that is streaked with silent tears, a look of anguished shame on his face as he shakes his head slowly.

"P - please," Sam begs softly, his bottom lip quivering, "please don't look at me."

All of Dean's breath leaves him in a rush, feeling as though Sam has just kicked him in the chest, the hallow empty place where his heart use to be constricting painfully as tears prick Dean's eyes.

Shaking his head, Dean leans in to brush his lips across Sam's.

"No, baby, s'okay. I wasn't -" Dean can't finish the sentence because he knows it's a lie, he was looking, and Sam would have to not only be blind but dumb not to know it too. 

Sam's hands clutch at Dean, pulling him closer. 

"M'dirty," Sam mumbles brokenly, shaking his head, "So dirty."

Dean pulls his head back, shaking it as he looks at Sam, "No, you're not. You're perfect, an' beautiful." 

Sam draws in a shuddering breath, shaking his head, tortured tear-filled hazel eyes gazing into green, "I - I hate that you're even touching me, but..." he shakes his head, letting his sentence trail off, "Jus' don't look at me, please."

Releasing Sam's cock, Dean wraps his arms around his brother, pulling him in close so there is no room between them.

"Okay, Sammy, okay. M'not lookin', baby. I won't look." Dean tells him softly as he squeezes his eyes closed against the sting of his own tears.

**_"...Love bites, love bleeds. It's bringin' me to my knees, Love lives, love dies. If you've got love in your sights, watch out, love bites. Yes it does, it will be hell." ~ Love Bites, Def Leppard_ **

After a few moments, Sam pulls his head back nodding, ""M'kay, m'kay, I'm okay." he tells Dean, sniffling softly. 

Dean stares into his brother's face, jade orbs searching it once again as he frowns softly, "Sammy, are you sure, baby? I don't want to -"

"No! I'm okay," Sam blurts out interrupting him.

He nods again, licking his lips, "I need you to do this, Dean. Get the feel of them off me. Do this for me, please." Sam tells him softly. 

Dean blows out a hot breath as he eyes his brother.

Well, he can understand that logic he figures.

Giving a tight nod, Dean reaches down, wrapping his hand gently around his brother's cock.

He's not as hard as he was, so Dean's gonna have to get him goin' again, not that it's a big deal.

Dean's more worried about how Sam is going to handle this in the end.

Slowly pumping his hand along his brother's shaft, Dean leans in slanting his mouth over Sam's, kissing him slow, teasing him with his tongue, working him back up.

Dean's free hand runs over Sam's body, down his chest and around to his back, sliding up into his hair, fingers threading through the thick chestnut strands as Dean continues to kiss him, thrusting his tongue in and out of Sam's mouth in rhythm to his hand on his brother's cock. 

He can feel Sam's dick twitch in his hand, surging and pulsing, hardening to fully erect once more as Sam bucks his hips, thrusting his cock into Dean's hand, small moans and whimpers tearing from his throat as he holds onto Dean tightly. 

The death grip Sam has on him, Dean knows is going to leave bruises, but he can't bring himself to care. 

If this is what Sam needs, to hold onto him like a life line, then so be it. 

A few bruises is a small price to pay.

_The dip in the mattress as Skinny moves, spreading his legs open wide, he’s shaking his head, but no Skinny doesn‘t listen, even when he begs._

_“No, please.”_

_“Shshsh, we're gonna do somethin' different ta day.” Skinny tells him._

_He can feel Skinny's hand wrap around his cock, slowly starting to pump him._

_Sam shakes his head harder, "No! Don't, don't, don't..."_

**_"Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal. Fear is how I fall. Confusing what is real…_ **

Sam whimpers, his fingertips digging into Dean's flesh harder, nails leaving crescent moon cuts. 

Dean tries to kiss Sam slower, almost soothingly, his tongue slowly painting along the interior of Sam's mouth, his hand in Sam's hair slowly slipping free to caress his back. 

_He can still feel Skinny's hand continuing to pump his cock as he thrusts into sore his ass._

_"Cum, pretty boy, it's okay. You deserve it, been so good."_

Dean tears his lips from Sam's both of their breaths panting out, but Sam doesn't open his eyes, keeps them closed, lips parted, face flushed. 

Dean eyes him a moment, trying to see if he's okay.

Leaning in, Dean brushes his lips across Sam's cheekbone, warm breaths fanning his brother's face.

"So hot Sammy, so fuckin' beautiful." Dean tells him softly.

And just like that, Sam is back there, chained to the cot, unable to move as he's used and degraded.

_"Such a hot tight ass... Fuck! Save some for me!"_

_Sam grunted and struggled, teeth clenched together, hands baled into tight fists, growls of pain tearing from his throat._

_"Ooh, listen ta that, I think he likes it."_

_"Aw, shit! He's fuckin' gushin' blood again!"_

_Sick snickers as Sam feels a finger jabbed into his ass beside the cock already shoved inside of him._

_"Stop ya belly achin'! It's jus' lube fer the filthy slut. It'll make 'im squeal like a pig!"_

_Sam head tilted back as his lips parted on screams that tore his throat._

_"Ffffuckkk yyyou!" Sam spat._

_Laughter, sick, depraved fucking laughter filling his head. It's all he knows in the darkness that is his world._

_"Aww, listen ta dat, I think he loves you, Tiny!"_

_More sick laughter, spinning in his head, making him nearly as dizzy, as queasy as the drug they kept feeding him._

_Darkness and pain._

_Degradation and filth._

_Die... just let me die…_

**_"There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface. Consuming/confusing. This lack of self-control I fear is never ending. Controlling/I can't seem, to find myself again, my walls are closing in (without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take) I've felt this way before, So insecure…"_ **

Sam's back arched off the bed, his cock into Dean's fisted hand as his fingertips dug painfully hard into Dean's flesh.

Sam's lips parted on an audible gasp, eyes flying open, glazed and unseeing, at least not seeing what was before him, instead all Sam could see where horrific memories, reliving his nightmare. 

Dean jerked back from his brother, his hand releasing his brother's shaft as if it had burned him.

Jade eyes wide with fear for Sam, Dean reached up gripping Sam's face in his hands.

"Sam!? Sammy!?" Dean yelled at him.

Sam's legs thrash as he tries to kick, in his mind struggling to get away, but the sweats pulled half way down are nearly as effective as the hands holding him still in his mind. 

Sam's teeth clenched together as Dean is helpless to do anything but watch the emotions flicker across his brother's face as he relived moments in the darkness.

A scream slowly tore from Sam's throat, starting low at first, then growing in volume, until Sam's mouth was open and he was screaming full out, trapped in the middle of the abyss with no sign of a way out. 

"Sammy! Sam!! Sam!!!" Dean yelled, calling to him, nearly shaking him, to try to get him to answer, get him back out of his hell.

Nothing.

**_"...Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal. Fear is how I fall. Confusing what is real…"_ **

_"Hold him still, Goddammit!"_

_It was the leader, kneeling between Sam's legs, his cock half shoved into him as he bled and Sam struggled, thrashing and kicking, biting at anyone or anything that came near his face._

_A hand gripped his balls tight, so tight Sam clamped his teeth together a low groan of pain tearing from his throat._

_His eyes behind the blindfold, under his swollen lids rolled in his head, stomach aching like he'd just been kicked._

_Gagging and retching, Sam tried to turn as much to the side as he could, sure he was going to get sick again._

_A hard smack against his nuts had Sam's neck arching back, mouth open wide as he screamed._

_"AAuugh! Aaauugh! Fffuck yyyou!" He panted, chest and stomach heaving._

_Sam tried to spit at them only to get a hard punch to the side of his face, splitting his cheek open, head snapping to the side._

_The black nothingness unconsciousness brought, he welcomes it, wanted it._

_"Pppussy ass mutherffff--" Sam tried to snarl out weakly._

_Another blow to his face, jaw this time, making him bit his tongue._

_Blood oozed down his chin._

_Another smack against his balls that were pulled taunt away from his body._

_Sam screamed, shoulder shaking as he started to sob._

_"Sssstop! Ssstop!" his head rolled on the filthy pillow, "Oh God... stop...."_

_Nearly gentle hands touched his head, smoothing back his hair._

_Dean?_

_A strip of leather was suddenly shoved into his mouth._

_"Jus' bite on dat, pretty boy." Skinny's soft words sounded near his ear, rancid breath fanning his face making Sam gag._

_"Aw, look, Zen's got himself a girlfriend."_

_"Shut up! Ya'lls gonna kill 'im!"_

_"So what if'n we do! Maybe we'll jus' go find this one here's brother!"_

_laughter echoed in Sam's head as his eyes rolled up._

_Another hard smack had Sam's body bowing, teeth sinking into the dirty leather as he screamed and gagged._

_" 'ere, gimme that!"_

_Icy coldness was pressed against his ass as the leader pulled out of him, jizm oozed out, mixing with the steady stream of blood._

_"Let's see if'n he can take a beer can!"_

**_Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me. Distracting/reacting. Against my will I stand beside my own reflection. It's haunting how I can't seem to find myself again, my walls are closing in (without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take) I've felt this way before, So insecure…_ **

Dean has rolled Sam onto his back, laying half over him, trying to get him to respond in any way he can think of. 

He's yelled and shaken Sam, cried and begged softly and still, nothing. 

Sam's muscles are locked, his teeth clenched, eyes wide, hands clenched into firsts, breaths panting out through parted lips, between his teeth, chest rising and falling hard, fast, too fast as his heart bangs out a fearful rhythm, slamming in his chest so hard, Dean can feel it against his own. 

"Sam? Sammy, please, it's Dean. Please come back to me, baby. Please." Dean begs him, as tears make slow tracks down Dean's cheeks, head shaking slowly, jade orbs watching for any sign that Sam might hear him.

Dean can't think what else to do, can't think of how to help him, how to bring him back from the abyss he has fallen so deeply into.

Too deep to be found?

The thought bangs around in Dean's head, only making him more determined for it not to be so. 

He's not gonna lose his brother to a buncha damn memories of his fuckin' nightmare prison, goddammit!

Dean grits his teeth as he looks into his brother's face. 

"No, Sammy, no! Don't you leave me! Don't you do it!" Dean tells him through his teeth, bottom lip quivering, eyes filled with tears.

**_Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal. Fear is how I fall. Confusing what is real… ~ Crawling, Linkin Park_ **

Suddenly Dean wasn't in some cabin in the middle of nowhere, holding on to what was left of his brother and trying desperately to get him back.

In his mind they were at some no name motel somewhere and their dad was sitting at the table, cleaning weapons as he and Sam wrestled and played on the floor.

Thundercats on the television in the background.

He was only thirteen and Sammy nine, and they were wrestling and laughing.

Then he had Sam pinned and the clap of thunder made the TV jump.

Sam started to whine, struggling to get free, pushin with his feet to get out from under him.

Sam had started to thrash and whimper, scared of the storm and Dean had pulled half off him, lifting Sam's shirt as he did and lowering his head, licking his lips real good so they were nice and wet then blowing a big juicy raspberry on Sam's stomach.

Sam had screeched and giggled so loud their dad had actually looked up from cleaning his weapons and smiled at them.

It was a good memory, one where they were safe, where Dean had kept Sam feeling safe, where their dad had kept them safe. 

Blinking himself back into the present, Dean glanced down at Sam's bare stomach.

It was nearly stupid and such a shot in the dark that Dean nearly felt like a fool for trying it.

But he didn't know what else to do.

Running is tongue over his lips a few times so they were good and wet, Dean lowers his head, blowing a raspberry as hard as he can against Sam's stomach.

Sam goes completely still.

Pulling his head up, Dean looks into Sam's face in time to see his eyes roll up into his head.

"No! No, goddammit! No!" Dean growls, teeth clenching together as he reaches for Sam's face.

Hands grasping Sam's face, Dean shook him slightly.

"Sammy! Sammy, please!" 

Nothing.

Dean moves a hand, feeling for Sam's pulse, no longer able to feel his heart slamming against his ribs. 

There was one, steady and sure. 

Sam's eyes slowly open, hazel sliding over toward Dean.

"Dean?" Sam calls softly, voice weak.

Dean blinks back the sting of tears in his eyes as he looks down into his brothers face, sighing with relief.

"Yeah, Sammy, yeah, s'me. I'm right here." Dean tells him, grasping Sam's hand in his.

Sam's face starts to slowly crumble as he looks at his brother.

Dean reaches for him, wrapping his arms around Sam, pulling him up against him, holding him close.

"Shshsh," Dean tells him through his own tears as Sam cries softly, face buried against his neck, "I gotcha, I gotcha."

Sam's mouth is open, teeth and spittle against Dean's skin as he cries softly, blinking away the darkness that continues to hover just along the edges of his consciousness, flashing dark glimpses of hell at him as if it knows how to tease and break down a person. 

As if the abyss itself can think and knows just how to slowly drive a person insane with memories and thoughts of a time they wish like hell they could simply forget. 

Sam's hands clutch at his brother, his grip so tight it's painful, but Dean doesn't care. 

**_"Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one else above you? Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness, ease my troubles, that's what you do..."_ **

He doesn't care that he's fairly certain that the soft tickling sensation running down his side is his own blood, oozing down his flesh, brought about by Sam's jagged short nails cutting crescent moons into his skin. 

Dean simply holds his baby brother a little tighter, whispering a few more words of comfort to him.

"S'okay, Sammy, s'okay, baby." Dean tells him softly as he turns his head, pressing his soft full lips against the side of Sam's head.

Sam moves his head, burying his face against Dean's shoulder as he takes in a shuddering breath. 

"M'sorry, m'sorry. I thought I could do it." Sam tells him, his voice soft, broken, as he sniffles. 

"I wanted to do it." Sam adds, before another soft sob wracks his frame. 

"Shshsh, it's okay, Sammy. Really, it's okay. We can try again some other time," Dean tells him softly, as he slowly pulls his head back, jade orbs searching Sam's tear streaked face, "We don't need to rush this, baby," Dean says as he shakes his head slowly before pulling Sam in once more, holding onto him tightly.

**_"...For the morning sun in all it's glory, meets the day with hope and comfort too, You fill my life with laughter, somehow you make it better, ease my troubles, that's what you do…_ **

Dean holds onto his brother until Sam's tears turn into small hiccupped breaths against his skin.

It's then that Dean slowly pulls back from him and slowly pushes Sam down against the bed. "Jus' lay back, s'okay." Dean tells him softly.

Once Sam is laying down, Dean tears his gaze away from Sam's face to look down at his sweats and boxers twisted around his legs. 

Reaching for them, Dean starts to tug them straight, pulling them up, his gaze darting back to Sam's face. 

"Lift for me." Dean tells him softly, once he has the pants as high as he can get them on his brother's muscled thighs.

Sam's gaze has never strayed from Dean the entire time, just as now, he watches his brother as he lifts his hips up off the bed. 

It doesn't go unnoticed by the younger Winchester that Dean has made a point of not asking him to 'lift his ass', but instead simply to 'lift up', he doesn't say anything about it however, simply does as his brother asks him to.

Some part of Sam's subconscious clicks off another change in his life, something else that will never be the same again thanks to those bastards who took him.

Dean slides Sam's sweats up, dressing him, just like he use to when they were kids, when Sam would be whining about not wanting to go somewhere and it was Dean's responsibility to get him dressed and ready anyway. 

**_"...There's a love less defined, and its yours and its mine, like the sun. And at the end of the day, we should give thanks and pray, to the one, to the one..."_ **

Pulling his fingers from the waistband of Sam's pants, Dean slides his hands up Sam's bare sides as he slowly leans up over him, dropping a soft kiss against his lips. "I'll get ya a clean tee." Dean tells him softly.

Sam nods, slightly slanted champagne hazel eyes following Dean as he pulls from the bed, walking naked over to the dresser, the duffel there, and tugs out a light blue tee. 

"Hey," Dean starts as he turns around, walking back over to Sam, "I got an idea. How about we get dressed and go out? Go somewhere and just sit, ya know?" Dean asks him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Sam as he shakes out the tee. 

"We could sit and have a couple a beers." Dean tells him, flashing him a small smile. 

**_"...Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one else above you? Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness, ease my troubles, that's what you do..."_ **

The idea of going outside, of getting out of the confines of the cabin sounded wonderful, but at the same time, the thought of leaving the safety of these walls filled Sam with mind numbing fear.

Sam's brows furrow before he swallows hard, licking his lips as he looked up at his brother. 

He wanted to ask Dean if he was crazy. 

Wanted to yell and rant and tell him that they could never leave here again, that it was too dangerous, that those men could be out there. 

Watching, waiting to grab him again.

Or worse, grab Dean. 

Sam shakes his head, but he doesn't say any of those things, doesn't let his fears tumble from his lips, instead asking, "Beers?" 

Dean has watched the look of horror flicker in his brothers eyes, quickly being either hid or dealt with.

Though Dean's fairly certain it's not the latter, though he doesn't call Sam on it, instead he only shrugs and nods, "Well, beer for me, root-beer for you." he tells him, gathering the shirt up, bringing the neck of it up to Sam, waiting for him to lift up so he can pull it over his head. 

Sam doesn't budge, though he tears his gaze away from Dean, looking away, lips pressed firmly together. 

"Sam," Dean starts softly, "it'll be okay, baby."

Sam's eyes slide back to his brother as Dean shakes his head slowly, "Nothin's gonna happen. I swear, we'll be safe." 

How can Dean say that? How can he know?

After a long moment, hazel eyes searching his brother's face, seeing the hopeful look in his jade eyes, Sam nods slightly.

"M'kay, if - if you want to." Sam tells him softly, not wanting to let Dean down yet again. 

The smile Dean gives him makes Sam's heart swell. 

It almost makes Sam believe that maybe Dean's right, maybe everything will be okay... almost.

**_"...There's a love less defined, and its yours and its mine, like the sun. And at the end of the day, we should give thanks and pray, to the one, to the one..."_ **

Pulling from the bed, Dean walks around to the other side, grabbing up his boxers and jeans, slipping them on.

Sam watches him in silence for a few moments before pushing upward on the bed into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side.

Glancing up at Sam, Dean frowns, nearly tripping in his haste to get over to him, as he pulls on the last leg of his jeans.

"Where are you goin'?" Dean asks him, fastening the button of his jeans, zipping up. 

Sam frowns at him, glancing from his face to his jeans and back. 

"If we're goin' somewhere, I'm putting my jeans on," Sam tells him, "I'm not goin' out in sweats."

Dean looks at his brother in silence for a minute, jade orbs searching hazel. 

It's not like Sam never use to go out in sweats. 

Hell, there were a lot of times he'd run out to get coffee while Dean was taking first dibs on the shower and grab them both a cup while he waited for his chance to get one, but now...

Dean gives Sam a small nod. 

He figures that maybe sweats might make Sam feel a bit more vulnerable, tries to understand and not point out that jeans or sweats really don't mean a damn thing. 

"Yeah, uh, sure, alright." Dean tells him before reaching out to slap a hand against Sam's shoulder, turning and walking over to the dresser, to the duffel, pulling out a pair of Sam's jeans along with a tee for himself. 

**_"...Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one else above you? Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness, ease my troubles, that's what you do..."_ **

Walking back over to Sam, Dean tosses the jeans down on the bed before shaking out his tee, pulling it down over his head and body, the deep green color of it making his eyes sparkle and shine.

"Let's get you changed." Dean tells him, tilting his head from side to side, cracking his neck.

Sam takes a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he hangs his head. 

He tries not to laugh at his brother, tries hard, but in the end, a small chuckle works out of him.

Slowly Sam raises his head to look over at Dean, who has a brow quirked a small smirk tugging at his lips.

**_"...Take away all my sadness, fill my life with gladness, ease my troubles, that's what you do..."_ **

"Jerk," Sam mutters.

"Bitch," Dean replies right back, without pausing. 

At least some things don't change.

"...Take away all my sadness, fill my life with gladness, ease my troubles, that's what you do. ~ Have I Told You Lately, Rod Stewart.


	10. Chapter 10

Twenty minutes later, after getting Sam dressed, grabbing a small cooler with a couple beers for Dean and a couple root-beers for Sam, Dean is helping Sam to and out the front door, arm wrapped around his waist, allowing Sam to lean on him as he carries the cooler in his free hand.

Sam holds onto the wall as much as he does his brother, trying to not let it seem like he needs so much support, but sadly, his legs are still just that weak.

The small trips out of the bedroom to the bathroom and the few to the kitchen table haven't done much in getting Sam's legs strengthened, even the leg lifts he has started doing on his own in bed haven't really helped that much, not when he's trying to carry his entire weight on them, they just don't seem to know how to listen to his brain correctly yet. 

_"It's just gonna take time, Sam. They haven't carried you around in a long time. Just give it time."_ Ellen's words to him, when she had to help him back to the bedroom once, when he'd been stubborn enough to try to get his own drink, ran through Sam's head as his feet shuffled along the wood floor.

At Sam's weary sigh, Dean looks over at him, jade orbs searching his brother's face, noting the stubborn tilt of his jaw, his lips pressed together, brow furrowed as he looks down, watching almost in anger as his booted feet make their slow progression the wood floor before they reach the door and Dean swings it open. 

"Doin' good, Sam. Yer doin' good." Dean encourages him softly as he steps down onto the porch, half turning toward his brother, the hand he's carrying the cooler in, going to Sam's arm he has raised, palm flat against the screen door. 

"Careful," Dean coaches, watching as Sam slowly steps down and onto the porch.

"Ya got it? Ya okay?" Dean asks him, looking from Sam's face to his feet and back. 

Sam nods, lips still pressed together, a look of concentration on his handsome face as he watches his own feet, looking at them almost as if they're his biggest enemy. 

Glancing toward the Impala, Dean groans internally.

He'd forgotten the mess he made of her in his excitement to just get Sam out of the cabin. 

_Sonuva…_

With a sighed huff, Dean looks back at Sam and licks his lips.

"It's not as bad as it looks, I can fix it." Dean tells him.

It's then that Sam raises his gaze, first to Dean, then out at the Impala. 

Even from the small distance, Sam can see that the windows are obviously smashed in on one side, the roof dented a bit.

Sam's gaze returns do Dean, brows furrowing as he frowns slightly, lips still firmly pressed together, until he takes a breath, letting it out with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam tells him softly.

Dean quirks a brow at his brother, giving him a look as if he has no idea what he's talking about.

"Pfft! My temper, you didn't do it. Got nothin' ta be sorry about, Sammy." Dean tells him.

Sam presses his lips back together, giving a small curt nod. 

He doesn't agree, he knows that what he did to Dean is why the Impala looks the way it does, but he doesn't argue.

Getting Sam over to the car, even though it's only a short distance away from the porch, is slow going. 

Dean juts his chin toward the passenger side as they approach it. 

"Just lean there a minute, lemme get the glass outta the front seat," Dean tells him.

Sam nods, putting both hands out in front of him, palms against the cool metal of the car. 

The sun is slowly starting to set and there's a cool breeze blowing softly through the trees. 

Hurrying around to the other side of the car, Dean opens the driver side door, the hinges making their familiar creak and groan as the door opens. 

Using the side of the cooler first, Dean shoves at the broken glass littering the seat, sweeping it out of the car onto the ground at his feet.

Once the pieces are too small for the cooler to do any good, Dean pulls back, opening the back door, he places the cooler in the floorboard and closes the door, leaning back inside the front driver side to finish brushing the remaining glass out with his hand. 

Once the seat is pretty much as clean as it's getting without some major detailing work, Dean pulls back and to his full height, looking across the roof at Sam. 

"Ya okay?"

Sam nods, "Yeah, m'okay," Sam answers but there's already a weariness to his voice. 

"Okay," Dean tells him with a nod, "you can get in now." he eyes Sam a minute, "You want some help?" 

Reaching for the car door, Sam glances back at his brother and shakes his head, "Nah, I'm okay." he mumbles with a nod, returning his attention to the car and folding himself inside.

Sliding behind the wheel, Dean smiles over at his brother.

"Feels good, huh?" Dean asks him, nodding.

Managing a smile for Dean, one that doesn't reach his eyes, Sam tries to hide the death grip he has on the door handle.

Sam hates it, he really does. 

He hates himself for feeling so afraid, for being so weak. 

As much as he tries to repeat over and over to himself that it's alright, that they're safe, that they're gonna be safe, he can't seem to shake the fear that clenches hard at his chest, making it hard to breath. 

So instead Sam rips his gaze away from Dean, eyes slightly wide as he gulps in air, staring straight ahead. 

Dean's eyes Sam, watching as he quickly looks away after flashing him the fakest smile on the planet. 

Doesn't miss how Sam's breaths seem to be coming faster, his eyes a little wider.

He also hasn't missed the fact that he's probably gonna have Sam's hand impression forever imprinted on the door handle over there either, the way he had a death grip and a half on it. 

The kid's knuckles are white for Chrissake!

Dean knows that look, they've seen it a hundred time on other people, though it always had to do with something supernatural, it's fear, hard cold fear.

Dean bites his lip as his gaze travels over his brother and he wonders if this really was just a bad idea. 

Maybe Sam isn't ready to do this.

Maybe he's making it worse for Sam and not better.

Forcing himself, Sam looks over at Dean, catching him looking at him.

Glancing back out the windshield, Sam gives a nod forward, "Let's go."

Dean sighs softly, "Sam," he shakes his head, "we don't have to. It's okay, I'm sorry, I -"

"No!" Sam interrupts him as he looks back over, the word blurted out in a near shout.

Shaking his head, Sam swallows, "I - I want to do this. Let's - let's just go. I'll be okay." 

A muscle in Dean's jaw twitches as he looks at his brother for a long moment before nodding and leaning forward, inserting the key in the ignition and turning.

The Impala's engine roars to life and for a brief moment, if he were to close his eyes, Dean could almost pretend that everything was okay again... almost.

*

The drive is short, damn short. 

They could have just walked had Sam's legs been stronger.

Pulling over to the small clearing near a lake, Dean parks the Impala and looks over at Sam.

It's not like he hasn't been watching his brother the entire way there, cause he has.

If not dead on, then from the corner of his eye.

Watching as Sam kept shifting, re-seating himself and wincing.

Dean hadn't noticed just how many potholes lined this damn road until now. 

Of course, Sam never mentioned his discomfort, never said anything or made a real sound.

But watching him, the looks on his face, the way he kept gritting his teeth and hissing in breaths of pain as he readjusted, it wasn't a hard thing to figure out. 

"Should’a brought you a pillow." Dean mumbles out as his gaze roams over his brother.

Sam jerks his head around to look at his brother, tearing his gaze from the side window he's been steadily looking out, as if the scenery were riveting, but Dean knows better. 

He knows his brother and knows that he's trying to hide the fear in his eyes, the look of pain that keep creeping across his face. 

Sam looks at Dean, lips parted, blinking for a moment before his words actually seem to register and Sam shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm," he nods, swallowing, "I'm okay."

Dean eyes his brother for a long while,but doesn't say anything, even with the thought to tell him that he's a horrible liar crosses his mind, Dean merely swallows it down and nods. 

"Yeah, okay," Dean sighs, reaching for the door handle, "let's go get some air then."

Sliding from behind the wheel, Dean quickly closes the door, jogging around to the other side to help Sam out as he opens his door.

Sam pulls from the car, slowly unfolding himself as he holds onto the side of the door and Dean's shoulder. 

Wrapping an arm around Sam, Dean helps him take a few steps away from the car so he can close the door. 

"Ya okay? Ya good?" Dean asks him as he looks at Sam, jade orbs searching his face. 

Sam's lips are pressed together in a tight line as he nods.

"M'good, m'good." Sam mumbles in answer, his grip on Dean tightening a little as Dean starts to walk him away from the car and toward a grassy area of the clearing.

Reaching an area Dean likes the look of, it's near the water, but not too close, soft grass crunch under their booted feet and there are bushes that sort of block the area from the view of anyone who might be passing by on the main road. 

"Here, Sam. Here is good, take a seat." Dean tells him, half sitting down with him as he helps Sam sit without falling onto his already sore ass. 

Crouching Dean tears his gaze from his brother as he surveys the area a little, making sure they are alone, that no one else had the same idea about the spot... or anything else for that matter.

"Dean?"

Dean looks back at his brother and offers a small smile, "Yeah, Sam?"

Sam tears his gaze from Dean to look in the same direction he had been, then slowly back at him, unease clear in his hazel eyes.

Dean shakes his head, "Nah, Sam, it's okay. I was jus'," he shrugs a shoulder, "lookin'."

Dean offers Sam a smile as he moves to sit down on on the grass beside him, arm reasting on a bent knee, his other leg out stright before him. 

"Nice here, huh?" Dean asks softly, looking out toward the water.

Sam's lips are pressed tightly together as he looks over, out at the water, brow furrowing slightly before he nods and drops his gaze, head hanging. 

"Did - did you bring your gun?" Sam asks him softly.

Dean turns his head, looking over at Sam and sighs softly as he shakes his head.

"No, I didn't." Dean answers, tearing is gaze from Sam to look off toward where the car is parked and flicks a hand toward it, "Got an arsenal in there though," he looks over at Sam, "you know that."

Sam glances up over his brows toward the car, nodding, but remains silent, tries to calm his heart and still his nerves that seem to be tied in knots. 

"Sam," Dean starts as he leans in closer to his brother, "if you wanna go back, it's okay. We don't have to do this."

Sam shakes his head, he doesn't want to go, doesn't want this fear to win over him. 

Doesn't want his life dictated by the chance that something might happen again.

He wants the piece of himself that was stole away from him back.

"No, I'm," he nods slightly, a determined look on his face as he stares off, "I'm okay." he finishes, tearing his gaze away from the nothingness he as seeing to look over at his brother, forcing a small tight smile for him. 

"I'm okay." Sam repeats, as much for himself as for Dean.

Eyeing his brother a moment, Dean finally nods before leaning in to brush his lips across Sam's. 

"Better than okay." Dean tells him softly, making Sam huff.

Pulling back a little, Dean takes Sam's hand in his, looking down at their hands, he laces them together before looking back up into Sam's face. "Not ever gonna let anything happen to you again, Sam," Dean tells him, a determined look on his face, in his jade eyes. "I swear it." Dean add in a soft near growl from between clenched teeth.

Sam presses his lips together and gives a nod, tearing his gaze away, looking down at their hands, his fingers squeezing Dean's slightly as tears sting his eyes.

Taking a deep breath through parted lips, Sam pulls his head up to look at Dean. 

"Might have to hold you to that," he tells him softly, blinking away the wetness of tears on his lashes. 

Dean nods and pulls Sam into his arms, holding him tightly, noticing only then how Sam is trembling slightly, or maybe he just started.

In either case, Dean holds on just a little tighter as he turns his head to kiss Sam's temple.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

"Pie." Dean says, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Pie? Where do you get pie from?" Sam ask him, frowning, "I don't see any pie."

Dean huffs softly, "It's because you're not trying hard enough, squint. See it?" Dean asks him, pointing, "it's right there! Apple pie to be exact."

Sam frowns harder and shakes his head, "I think you're hallucinating. It doesn't look like pie."

Dean frowns as his eyes slid over to look at his brother. 

**_"I get lost in your eyes and I feel my spirits rise and soar like the wind… Is it love that I am in? I get weak in a glance. Isn't that what's called romance? ...And now I know, 'Cause when I'm lost I can't let go..."_ **

They're laying side by side, flat on their backs, gazing up at the russet and pink colored sky as they play the 'what do you see in the clouds?' game. 

They both have their legs bent at the knee, feet flat on the ground, the fingers of their hands closest to one another are laced together, both were squinting as they gazed up at the dark blue clouds. 

Dean shakes his head slightly as he lets his gaze roam over Sam, watching as he squints just a little harder at the sky, tilting his head to the side, a frown creasing his brow as he studies the clouds, searching for the one that Dean swears looks like pie. 

**_"...I don't mind not knowing what I'm headed for, You can take me to the skies... It's like being lost in heaven, When I'm lost in your eyes…"_ **

"Nah, not hallucinating," Dean tells him, his voice suddenly gone soft, loving, "just the way I see things."

Sam tears his gaze from the sky, turning his head to look over at his brother, a small smile pulls at his lips as hazel meets jade. 

"Are you flirting with me, Dean Winchester?" Sam asks, acting as if he's mortified by the thought. 

**_"...I just fell, don't know why, something's there we can't deny... And when I first knew was when I first looked at you, And if I can't find my way If salvation seems worlds away, Oh, I'll be found, when I am lost in your eyes…"_ **

Dean grins wider, "Yeah, I was hoping to get your number." 

Sam laughs and turns his head to look back up at the sky, "It's written in the clouds, see if you can find it." 

**_…I don't mind not knowing what I'm headed for, You can take me to the skies... Oh it's like being lost in heaven, When I'm lost in your eyes…_ **

Dean frowns at Sam, tearing his gaze away to look back at the sky, "Bitch." he mumbles. 

Sam chuckles softly, but doesn't take his eyes off the sky, "Jerk."

**_…I get weak in a glance. Isn't this what's called romance?  
Oh, I'll be found, When I am lost in your eyes." ~ Lost In Your Eyes, Debbie Gibson_ **

Both are quiet for a long moment before Dean's free hand shoots upward pointing toward the sky.

"There it is! I found your number! It's right there!" Dean exclaims excitedly.

Sam frowns, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to the clouds. 

"Where? What number?" Sam asks him.

Dean rolls over toward Sam, laying half on him, thought not so much as he can't still point like a fool at the sky, a big grin spread over his face. 

"Right there! Can't you see it!? It's a '10', right under my pie." Dean tells him. 

Sam frowns, "A ten?" 

Dean tears his gaze from the sky to look down at Sam, sliding more onto him as he nods, grin held firmly in place. 

"Uh-huh, a _perfect_ ten." Dean says, his voice dropping to suggestive.

Sam rolls his eyes, "My number is not a ten."

Dean shrugs a shoulder, leaning in so their lips are nearly touching.

"Yeah, I know, I would have made you an eleven, but what do a bunch of fluffy clouds know anyway?"

Sam huffs, frowning at Dean's too close face.

"What?" Dean asks him, trying to sound innocent, even as mischief gathers in his jade eyes.

"It matches you, it's suppose to stand for perfect, it's a multiple of two and five," Dean begins only to get a rather surprised look from Sam.

Dean frowns, "Yes, I know what it's a multiple of." he grumps with a huff, only to have his frown slowly melt away into his patented Dean Winchester grin once more, "And it matches the size of your -"

"Dean!" Sam barks at him, interrupting Dean's lewd comment, making him laugh instead.

Sam huffs, tearing his gaze from Dean to look up at the sky as he shakes his head. 

Dean's laughter fades into small chuckles, "Oh come on, you know that was good."

Sam frowns at the sky, really working at it, making his brows furrow, the whole bit as he bites the inside of his cheek. 

"No, not really..." he states simply.

Dean stops laughing, "Really?" 

Sam can't take it anymore and slowly a wide grin spreads across his face making his dimples show before he looses himself in a fit of giggles, laughing harder as Dean gives a mock growl, pulling his hand from Sam's and begins to tickle the hell out of him.

Sam's laughing so hard tears are streaming from his eyes, running back into the hair at his temples as he tries to deflect Dean's tickling fingers. 

"Uncle!" Sam shouts laughing hard, body rolling slightly back and forth in his attempt to escape the tickling, "Uncle!"

Dean shakes his head, "We don't have an uncle." he growls playfully, tickling Sam all the more. 

"Gah! Stop! Stop!" Sam screams through his laughter, neck arched, face red from laughing so hard.

Dean stops tickling all at once, grinning down into his brother's face.

Sam's hands, each of them holding onto Dean's wrists from where he was trying to shove them away, pull them off as he was being mercilessly tickled, slowly slide down Dean's arms as Sam sighs in relief, gulping in breaths, a wide smile still pulling at his lips as he looks up at Dean. 

"You jerk." Sam mumbles.

Dean grins wider and winks at him, "You love it and you know it." 

With a sigh, Dean slowly pulls away from Sam, glancing toward the car, before looking back at his brother, who has pushed himself half up, hands braced against the ground as he holds himself up, arms locked. 

"Ya thirsty?" Dean asks him, quirking a brow.

Sam nods, still smiling. 

"Yeah, a little."

Dean gives a nod and starts to pull to his feet, only to catch a glimpse of Sam turning over and pushing up with his arms, struggling to get to his feet. 

Reaching out, Dean takes hold of Sam, pulling him back.

Looking over his shoulder at Dean, Sam slowly eases back down on the ground, brows furrowed. 

"What it is?" Sam asks him.

"You don't need to get up," Dean tells him, "I'll go grab the cooler and be back before you can miss me."

Sam's heart skips a beat as he looks at Dean, his smile falling completely away as fear hard and cold wraps itself around his insides, making it hard to breathe.

Dean watches the abrupt change in Sam and sighs softly, swearing under his breath as the kid all but goes white. 

"Sam," Dean begins, "it's okay. I'd be right there. You can see me. I can see you. It's not that far." 

Sam tears his gaze from Dean to look toward the car.

It's true, he can see the driver side door and the back one from where he is sitting. 

It's only a few feet away really and Sam knows it, he knows how irrational he's being, but he can't seem to help himself, can't shake the sudden fear that they aren't alone there anymore. 

Swallowing hard, Sam licks his parted lips, just a slight sweep of the tip of his tongue as he looks back at Dean.

He wishes he could tell Dean to forget it, that he isn't thirsty and that those words would make everything okay, but he knows that whether or not Dean goes to get drinks isn't the problem.

The problem lies in Sam's inability to handle that simple thing, to allow Dean out of his sight that long, to be alone that long. 

Leaves blow in the trees, a few dry ones rustle upon the ground nearby and Sam nearly jumps as his head snaps toward the sound eyes wide. 

He notices for the first time that the sun has gone down, notices just how alone out there they are, how vulnerable. 

Looking back at his brother Sam shakes his head, "No, I - I don't want you to go." he swallows hard again, "M'sorry, I tried," he keeps shaking his head, hanging it, "but I can't."

Dean presses his lips together as he looks at his brother, how frail and scared he seems in that moment. 

It does something to Dean's insides, makes him hurt and want to yell, scream and kick and fuckin' go ballistic on those fuckin' bastards all over again. 

Instead, Dean sighs softly, moving to sit back down in front of Sam, reaching for him, one hand at his shoulder, the other going to his chin, curled index finger hooking under it to lift Sam's head, making Sam look up at him. 

"Don't say that, Sam. Jus' don't say that. You can do any goddamn thing you wanna do, man. Hell, you've already done a helluvalot more than I woulda been doin' and you damn well know it." Dean shakes his head, "So don't you tell me that you can't," he says through gritted teeth, "You got that, Sam?"

Sam frowns at him, shrugging out of his hold, "I'm scared, alright!?" he nearly shouts, before tearing his gaze away, pressing his lips together as he tries to pull it all back in, get his emotions and fears in check. 

Taking a deep breath through parted lips, Sam turns his head back to look at Dean, "I'm scared," he tells him again more calmly, voice lowered, "I don't want to be left alone here," he tells Dean, shaking his head, "even for a second while you get the cooler and I don't want you alone out there." Sam's gaze drops to his lap as he huffs, "Some hunter I am, huh?" 

Dean sits back with a sigh, "I don't think it has anything to do with being a hunter, Sam." 

Sam lifts his gaze to Dean's, who shrugs. 

"You afraid of ghosts? Of demons? The bogeyman?" Dean asks him. 

"No." 

Dean shrugs again, "Has nothin' to do with being a hunter then."

Sam takes a deep breath and looks away.

Exhaling slowly, Sam gives a small nod.

"Go - go ahead and get the drinks," he tells Dean, jaw set at a stubborn angle, "I'm okay."

Dean sighs, leaning back in slightly closer, "Sam, it's okay. We can just go."

Sam turns his head to look at his brother, hazel gazing into jade for a long moment before he shakes his head.

"No, I wanna do this. Go, I'll be fine." Sam tells him softly. 

Blowing out a hot breath, Dean gives Sam a nod, though he isn't real sure if this is a good thing or a bad one. 

Pulling to his feet, Dean looks down at his brother, who looks so stiff he might just break in half if he touches him. 

"I, uh, I'll be right back." Dean mumbles, reaching out to put his hand on Sam's shoulder briefly before turning and jogging to the car. 

Sam nods to Dean's words, but he doesn't look at him, instead Sam is looking everywhere else, looking for some phantom menace that he's almost sure is there but he just can't see.

Reaching the car, Dean quickly opens the back door and grabs the cooler. 

Pulling back, he closes the door and is about to jog back to Sam, when the radio caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Tearing his gaze away to look at Sam, seeing how nervous he looks, like he might actually have a stroke any damn second, Dean makes a decision. 

Hell, it won't be the first time he degrades himself to make his little brother laugh, and it likely won't be the last. 

Reaching into the car, Dean flicks on the radio and skims the stations until he finds the one he wants. 

"Sam! Hey Sam!" Dean calls out to him as he pulls his head back and starts toward his brother. 

Sam's attention snaps toward Dean, eyes wide. 

Something was wrong.

Dean was calling him, needs him.

They're here, they found them. 

The bastards found Dean. 

No! God no! 

Sam starts to scurry to his feet as fast as his weak legs will take him, which isn't very fast at all, in fact he nearly falls twice before he sees Dean come into slightly better view.

Sam pauses, hands against the earth, body half lifted up, one knee bent, leg tucked under him, the other bent with his foot flat against the ground, in the process of trying to lift himself to his feet another way so he wouldn't fall flat on his face. 

**_“Let's do it…”_** Blasts from the Impala's radio. 

Dean spins around, cooler in hand, mouth open as he makes a funny face to get Sam laughing, his hips swinging around and gyrating before he steps even closer, into better view. 

Sam frowns at Dean, slowly starting to relax his posture, easing back down to the ground as he watches his brother. 

**_“Workin' all week 9 to 5 for my money, So when the weekend comes I go get live with the honey. Rollin' down the street I saw this girl and she was pumpin'. I winked my eye she got into the ride went to a club was jumpin'. Introduce myself as loc she said "you're a liar." I said "I got it goin' on baby doll and I'm on fire." Took her to the hotel she said "you're the king." I said "be my queen if you know what I mean and let us do the wild thing… Wild thing… Wild thing…”_ **

Dean holds the cooler at crotch level, thrusting his hips toward it as he throws his head back, face contorted , teeth gritted together before he bites his bottom lip. His gaze darting to Sam to see if he’s laughing or not. 

**_“…Shoppin' at the mall looking for some gear to buy, I saw this girl she cool rocked my world and I had to adjust my fly. She looked at me and smiled and said "you have plans for the night?" I said "hopefully if things go well I'll be with you tonight." So we journeyed to her house one thing led to an other, I keyed the door we cold hit the floor looked up and it was her mother. I didn't know what to say I was hanging by a string. She said "hey you two I was once like you and i liked to do the wild thing." Wild thing… She loved to do the wild thing…Wild thing…Please baby, baby please…”_ **

Sam shakes his head as he chuckles at his idiot brother. 

Encouraged by what he sees, Dean continues, turning around on a heel and gyrating his hips then swinging them to the rhythm of the music as he bites his lip. 

**_“…Posse in effect hangin' out is always hype, And when me and the crew leave the shindig I want a girl who's just my type. Saw this luscious little frame I ain't lyin' fellas she was fine. The sweet young miss go gave me a kiss and I knew that she was mine. Took her to the limousine still parked outside, I tipped the chauffeur when it was over and I gave her my own ride. Couldn't get her off my jack she was like static cling. But that's what happens when body start slappin' from doin' the wild thing… Wild thing… She wanna do the wild thing… Please baby, baby please… Wild thing…”_ **

Turning to set the cooler down, Dean starts acting as though he has someone bent over in front of him, thrusting his hips, arm swinging as if spanking. 

Stagger stepping forward, having gotten a little too into what he was doing, knocking himself off balance in the process, Dean starts to swing his hips again, gyrating and grinding them in the air, lips parted as he rocked to the beat of the music, making lewd movements. 

**_“…Doin' a little show at the local discotheque. This fine young chick was on my jack so I say what the heck. She want to come on stage and do her little dance, So I said chill for now but maybe later you'll get your chance. So when the show was finished I took her around the way, And what do you know she was good to go without a word to say. We was all alone and she said "tone let me tell you one thing, I need $50 to make you holler I get paid to do the wild thing."…_ **

Sam’s chuckling turns into outright laughter as Dean nearly fell over. 

With another look in Sam’s direction, Dean’s lips slides from between his teeth as he smiles, watching his brother laugh at his antics. 

**_“…Say what? Yo love you must be kidding. You're walkin' babe. Just break out of here. Hasta la vista baby… Wild thing.” ~ Wild Thing, Tone Loc_ **

With a sigh, tilting his head side to side to crack his neck, Dean stops his dancing and walks over, dropping down onto the ground beside Sam.

“I’m too old for that shit.” Dean mumbles breathlessly. 

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “You looked so stupid.”

Dean grins as he lay there looking up at Sam, breaths still panting softly out. 

“Yeah, but I got you to laugh,” he shrugs, “so it was worth it.”

Sam shakes his head, smiling down at Dean before leaning down over him and brushing his lips over his brothers.

Dean smiles as Sam slowly pulls back, "What was that for?"

Sam shrugs a shoulder, "Cause I love you."

Dean smiles a little wider as he reaches up, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist as he lays there looking up at him.

"And cause I'm an awesome brother too, right?" Dean prods, a cocky grin pulling at his lips.

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, "If you say so."

Dean chuckles, reaching up with his free hand to wrap that arm around Sam's waist too. 

"Kiss me again." Dean tells him softly. 

Sam bites his lip as he looks down at his brother, "What will you give me for it?"

Dean smirks, "Reeeespect."

Sam huffs and shoves at Dean making him laugh as he turns around, Pulling Sam down with him. 

Leaning in, Dean slants his mouth over Sam's kissing him softly, tongue running over his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth before slowly releasing and pulling back. 

"Love you too, Sammy." Dean tells him softly.

* * * 

Dean sat with his back leaning against one of the trees near where they had been sitting, Sam leaning back against him as he sat between his legs, both nursing their second bottle of beer... well, root-beer in Sam's case. 

Dean sighs softly as he moves a hand to Sam's shoulder, sliding it slowly down his arm.

"Ya cold?"

Sam shrugs, "Meh, just a little." 

Truth was he had been cold for a while now, but Dean's body heat had warmed him well enough as he sat there, not to mention, now that he wasn't quite so nervous, Sam didn't really want to go back.

Yawning, Sam runs a hand over his face. 

"Sorry." he mumbles softly. 

Dean looks down at his brother and shakes his head, "S'okay, baby. I think maybe we ought to get you back though."

He hates to admit it, to agree, but the idea of laying down in their nice warm bed, cuddling up to Dean and going to sleep sounds like heaven. 

"Yeah, okay." Sam agrees softly with a nod.

* * * 

Even with the small trip back, Dean doesn't miss the fact that Sam seems to be dozing on and off sitting in the passenger seat, his head bobbing as he tries to stay awake, to hide just how tired he really is. 

Shaking his head, Dean reaches back into the backseat and grabs one of their jackets, laying it over Sam with one hand.

"M'not asleep." Sam mumbles out sleepily.

Dean smiles at him, glancing at the road before looking back over at Sam, "Yeah, I know. It's just," he shrugs a shoulder, "in case."

Sam nods, as his eyelids slide closed again, his head slowly falling to the side, against the window.

* * * 

Parking the Impala, Dean turns off the engine and looks over at Sam, who stirs a little, but doesn't really wake up. 

With a sigh Dean shakes his head, reaching for the door handle. The door makes it's familiar creek and groan before Dean slides from behind the wheel, closing the door after himself as softly as he can. 

Walking around to the other side of the car, Dean slowly opens the door, Catching Sam as he starts to topple over, Sam's eyes flying open as he jumps to catch himself. 

"It's okay, baby. S'okay, I gotcha." Dean tells him softly, "we're back, lets get you inside and into bed." he says as he reaches in to wrap an arm around Sam, helping him out of the car.

Heading to the darkened cabin Sam frowns, "What - what time is it?"

Dean shakes his head, "Late." 

Sam nods leaning a little more on his brother than he had when they'd left a few hours ago. 

Making their way slowly to the door and inside, Sam's feet more shuffling along than actually walking now, Dean gets him into the bedroom, knocking the door closed with his booted foot. 

He leads Sam over to the bed, helping him sit down so he can crouch and remove his brother's boots, setting them aside.

Pulling to his full height, Dean reaches for Sam again, "Come on, baby, let's get your jeans off." Dean tells him softly allowing Sam to lean almost all of his full weight on him as he works at the fastenings of Sam's jeans, his own body braced against the wall so they won't both topple over. 

Once Dean has them unfastened he tugs them down to Sam's thighs, helping Sam sit back down on the bed.

Sam sits down, half asleep, his eyes continuing to close on him, sleep trying hard to pull him under. 

"Lay back, s'okay. I gotcha." Dean tells him, pulling Sam's jeans off, tossing them toward the dresser, and missing by a mile. 

Dammit. 

With a huff, Dean decides he doesn't give a rats ass, instead he covers Sam up with the blanket before pulling back to walk around the bed, unfastening his own jeans. 

"Mm, Dean?" Sam calls out sleepily, "don't - don't leave, m'kay?" 

Dean pauses in mid-step as Sam calls to him, looking over at him in the darkened room. 

He shakes his head, a small sad smile pulling at his lips, "Not leavin', Sammy. Not leavin'." Dean tells him, continuing to the other side of the bed, where he toes off his boots and pulls his jeans off, followed by his socks. 

Crawling into bed, Dean cuddles up next to Sam, pulling him into his arms, dropping a soft kiss against his temple as Sam lays his head on Dean's chest.

"G'Night, baby." Dean tells him softly.

"Mm, yeah, night, Dean." Sam tells him, cuddling closer, his hands fisting in the cotton of Dean's tee. 

"Jus' don't leave." Sam mumbles sleepily.

Dean shakes his head slightly, "M'not. I won't leave, Sam. You're safe. Always gonna be safe from now on."

Sam frowns sleepily and shakes his head, his eyes still closed, "Mm, no. They'll come for me. For you. Said so." Sam mumbles sleepily.

Dean huffs, lifting a hand to smooth Sam's long bangs back.

"Then they'll have to do it from the grave, Sammy. I killed everyone of those sonuvabitches. Every single one of them, baby." he tells Sam softly as he closes his eyes.

The room is silent for a long while, both Winchester's seemingly asleep. 

Slowly Sam's eyes open, all trace of sleepiness gone from his features, as he stares at the wall in the darkness.

* * *

Dean lays in bed with Sam long after he himself has awoken, remembering his promise not to leave, however when not only his bladder starts screaming at him, but the sun is beating down right into his face through the rooms lone window, Dean decides he's laid there long enough. 

It wasn't like Sam wasn't safe after all, nor was it like he was taking off. 

Slipping silently from the bed, Dean pads from the room and into the bathroom, sighing in relief as he stands in front of the toilet and finally takes a piss. 

Of course, now that he was up, he really didn't want to go back to bed and just lay there. 

The Impala could use his attention.

He could go work on fixing his baby while his other baby slept, though he was surprised Sam was still asleep, usually being the earlier riser of the two of them, but he figured the trip to the clearing the night before had likely just worn Sam out. 

Returning to the bedroom once he has finished taking a piss and washing his hands, Dean grabs his jeans and throws them on. 

Walking back out he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth quickly before heading outside. 

It was rather obvious that the others had eaten breakfast hours ago. 

Coffee. 

That was all he needed right now anyway, a tall ass cup of coffee. 

Grabbing a cup on his way, Dean heads for the front door. 

*

Sam had stayed awake half the night thinking about what Dean said, his words playing over and over again in his brain. 

_"Then they'll have to do it from the grave, Sammy. I killed everyone of those sonuvabitches. Every single one of them, baby."_

He knew that Dean's words should have simply eased his mind, made him feel better...

But did they?

Sam wasn't sure.

Stunned, he was just so stunned, he didn't know what to think, didn't know what to say. 

It was why he hadn't woken Dean to talk to him about it, instead just laying there in the dark, alone, his thoughts in turmoil.

It wasn't until sometime in the predawn hours that Sam had fallen asleep in exhaustion. 

* 

When Sam finally woke, it was to find himself alone in bed, his hand sliding over toward Dean's side in his half asleep state, feeling for him.

"Mm, Dean?" Sam calls, only to receive no answer. 

Lifting his head from the pillow, Sam looks around the room sleepily.

Turning his head, Sam looked at the alarm clock. 

2:30 PM

Sam huffs, rolling his eyes as he lets himself fall back onto the pillows with a groan. 

He'd slept half the day away. 

Lifting a hand, Sam ran it over his face before pulling up to sitting as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

First stop, bathroom. 

Pulling from the bed, using the wall and the bed to support himself, Sam slowly made his way toward the bedroom door, grabbing at the dresser as he reached the end of where he could hold onto the bed. 

Making it to the door and out, he continues slowly, his feet shuffling along, to the bathroom. 

Standing before the toilet was still a balancing act, having to hold onto the wall with one hand, his dick with the other and not topple over in the process, but he always managed. 

Flushing the toilet, Sam replaces one hand on the wall with the other as he turns, making his way to the sink, washing his hands. 

Once he has finished, Sam turns and starts to slowly make his way out of the bathroom, heading back to the bedroom.

"Well, good morning." Ellen greets him from the table as she looks up at him, cup of coffee and a slice of pie in front of her. 

Something about that scene makes Sam chuckle softly, shaking his head. 

She looks every bit like she could actually be Dean's mother in that moment. 

Sam nods to her, his smile slowly falling away. 

"Hi, Ellen."

Sam turns his path toward the table instead of the bedroom, making is way slowly over, taking a seat with a weary sigh. 

Ellen smiles softly over at him.

"You're getting better at that." she tells him with a nod. 

Sam offers her a small smile, though he doesn't believe it. 

He doesn't see that he's getting any better at walking, but he doesn't argue. 

Sam sits staring off as he thinks again about what Dean told him, about how he has killed all of those fucking bastards that hurt him, touched him.

Ellen's eyes narrow, brow furrowing as she watches Sam, knows that something is wrong. 

"What's eatin' ya, hun?" she asks him, leaning a little across the table toward him. 

Sam tears his gaze from the nothingness he was staring at to shake his head at her. 

"I just," he sighs softly, his gaze dropping to the table as he leans an arm on it, fingertips making circular patterns against the wood grain, "Dean told me something last night," he shakes his head, "I just can't believe he did it." he slowly lifts his gaze to look over at Ellen, "I'm not sure how I'm suppose to feel about it."

Ellen huffs as she sits back in her chair, "I think I'd be damn mad at his ass." she spats simply.

Sam frowns at her, brows furrowing as he licks his lips. 

"Really? You would?" he asks her.

*

Dean pulls back from the car, wiping his greasy hands on the rag he had in his back pocket. 

Not only has he fixed the windows, he's been in the process of changing the oil and has just finished. 

Reaching up, he slams the hood of the car down, then turns walking toward the front door.

He figures Sam must be up by now, and if not, he might just wake him.

It's kind of amazing how much he misses his brother's presence, when he's just sleeping, not gone anywhere. 

*

Ellen looks at Sam as if he is either ignorant or a saint, she's not sure which one just yet. 

"Sam," she starts, reaching a hand out to cover own of his with her own, "he cheated on you with a demon." she shakes her head, "I don't care what half ass explanation he gave you, there is no reason for that." she eyes Sam, not even noticing the stricken look on his face.

Or maybe she does and is just chalking it up to hearing the words said again, either way she continues. 

"Especially with everything else you've been dealing with, you sure as hell didn't deserve that!" Ellen tells him with a nod before pulling to her feet. 

Sam's gaze follows her, tears stinging his eyes as he sits there in dumbfounded shock. 

Finally he manages to swallow, clearing his throat, his hand that she had been holding, that is now simply sitting abandoned on the table top starts to shake. 

"He - he," Sam licks his lips, tearing his gaze away as they fill with tears. 

It makes sense, it makes so much sense. 

Of course he went to someone else.

Of course he told him they didn't have to rush things. 

He's sickened by him too. 

The front door slams closed as Dean walks into the house, a smile on his face as he sees Sam sitting at the table. 

"Mornin' Starshine!" he greets. 

Sam slowly turns his head to look at Dean as tears slowly slip down his cheeks. 

Dean looks from Sam to Ellen, his smile slowly falling away.

"What is it? What happened?" Dean asks no one in particular, just wanting someone to answer him as his gaze darts between his brother and Ellen. 

Dean starts to cross the distance between himself and Sam, only to have Sam rise quickly from the chair, toppling over and landing hard on the floor in the process, having stood up so fast, not holding onto anything. 

Dean stutter steps to a stop as he looks down at his brother with wide eyes, jade meeting broken tear-filled hazel. 

"Sammy, what's wrong? What happened? You're scaring me, Sam," Dean tells him. 

Sam shakes his head as he lays on the floor, on his back, elbows bracing his upper body, legs twisted in almost odd angles in front of him. 

"You - you cheated on me? With a demon?" Sam asks him softly, voice trembling as more tears fall from his eyes. 

Dean sucks in a startled breath, his gaze going to Ellen, who is shaking her head, her own brown orbs wide. 

"I - I didn't know, Dean," she mumbles out quickly, "I thought you told him."

Dean looks back down at his brother, his breaths coming harder, even as it seems like he's unable to breathe, to get enough air into his lungs. 

_Sonuva…_


	11. Chapter 11

Dean glances at Ellen before his gaze goes back to Sam.

Licking his lips nervously, Dean does the only thing he can think to do, the only thing he knows to do. 

Burying the pain, the shame, guilt and the almost certain knowledge that he is about to lose Sam forever. 

Instead of facing any of that, unable or unwilling to allow it to hit him, at least not right now, not with Ellen standing there watching them, Dean crosses the distance between himself and his brother, reaching for him.

"Come on, Sam, let's get you up off the floor." Dean tells him.

Sam jerks away from his touch, "Don't touch me!"

"Sam," Dean says his name, a warning for him to not do this.

Sam shakes his head, "No, just don't," Sam tells him as he reaches for the chair to pull himself up, "don't touch me."

Dean pulls back from Sam with a sigh, fighting to keep his own emotions in check to not drop down in front of Sam and beg his forgiveness like some damn girl. 

He watches as Sam puts his weight on the chair, trying to pull himself up.

The chair starting to tip over in the process, causing Sam to start to fall again.

_Sonuva…_

That's it, it's all Dean can stand to watch, Sam can tell him off later, can tell him how disappointed at the failure that he is later, but not right now, not when he needs him, Goddammit! 

Dean moves fast, catching Sam under the arm as he steadies the chair.

"We can fight about this when you aren't going to bust your ass!" Dean growls out through gritted teeth as Sam starts to shrug him off again. 

Jaw set, muscle twitching, Sam allows himself to be helped to his feet, reaching out to grabbing the pillar in the center of the room with one hand, his other hand against the wall. 

"I'm up," Sam clips out the words through gritted teeth, "now get away from me." he tells Dean, brushing past him as he heads to the bedroom. 

Tears of frustration string Sam's eyes anew as he slowly makes his way.

He can't even have the satisfaction of walking out of the room with a little dignity, slamming a door after himself.

Instead he has to walk slowly to the bedroom like some helpless invalid.

"Sam, please..." Dean starts, holding a hand out toward his brother. 

Dean's not even sure what he's asking, begging for, just that he needs Sam, needs to touch him, to know that he's still there. 

Sam ignores his brother's words. _"Sam please…_ " 'Sam please', what? 'Sam please', understand? 'Sam please', don't be mad? 'Sam please'... he has no idea what to even say to or think about those words, so he simply continues to the bedroom. 

Stepping across the threshold into the bedroom, Sam struggles to knock it closed without falling over in the process. 

The effect was suppose to be a slam, the outcome was a soft click of the door closing behind him. 

Leaning a hand, palm flat on the dresser, the other against the wall, Sam hangs his head, refusing to look into the mirror before him, refusing to see himself, to look at the person that even his brother is sickened by. 

So disgusted that he would rather be with a demon than him. 

Sam squeezes his eyes tightly closed as he shakes his head slowly.

**_"Watch it blow my mind, It's something I am ill prepared to remedy, But let it slow the time. It takes to die and close your eyes to your enemy, DEFY!..."_ **

_"When we're through wit you dat brother a yers ain't even gonna wanna look atcha."_

_"Filthy fuckin' whore."_

_"Take it, ya perty slut!"_

Sam's arms begin to tremble, shaking hard as he continues to brace himself there at the dresser, lips parted as he gulps in breaths. 

_"S'alright, Sammy. S'alright, we don't have to rush this."_

_"He cheated on you with a demon."_

_"A demon"_

_"Demon."_

_"Demon."_

_"When we're through wit you dat brother a yers ain't even gonna wanna look atcha."_

Sam's breaths come hard and hard with each remembered word, each thing that was said to him. 

From those bastards.

From Dean.

From Ellen.

Arms shaking nearly violently as he hyperventilates, Sam slowly pulls his head up, his eyes opening to look at his tear streaked reflection in the mirror.

**_"...Self-made millionaires won't take ideas, from all the little plebeians just suffocate with smiles. And force fed lies and close your mind to reality. Deny!..."_ **

Sam sees the dark circles around his eyes, how they're red rimmed, filled with unshed tears, his face seems pale somehow, thinner than normal, than what he was use to seeing, not having looked at himself since he's been back from that hell. 

His lips are parted with his harsh breaths, chest rising and falling hard under his light blue tee that seems to hang on him more than it did before. 

His hair looks longer, bangs so long he can nearly tuck them behind his ears. 

His eyes look dull and lifeless, and he wonders if somewhere in all this, all these changes that Dean can see his filth. 

Can see his defilement. 

The bedroom door opens and Sam quickly hangs his head again, not wanting Dean to see his face, not wanting to look at him, unable to. 

"Don't." Sam says softly, shaking his head.

Dean slips into the room, closing the door behind himself, his gaze fixed on his brother.

"Sammy," Dean starts, his gaze traveling over his brother.

Sam huffs softly as he closes his eyes. 

"Sam, please, I'm sorry, I never meat for you to find out." Dean rushes to tell him, taking a step closer, hand outstretched toward his brother. 

Sam turns, backing away from his brother, as he looks at him with wide tear-filled eyes, sees Dean's hand drop back down to his side. 

"Never meant for me to find out!? So," Sam waves a hand through the air so hard he nearly knocks himself off balance, quickly grabbing for the dresser.

Dean quickly reaches out to steady Sam, only to have his hand knocked away. 

"You were just going to keep this from me!? Let me think that everything was okay!?" Sam nearly yells at him. 

**_"...It feels like I'm losing again, When I've lost everything, I'm sure I will see more clearly, Lose what I'm feeling to them and not feeling anything, I'm sure I will bleed sincerely, Tonight!..."_ **

Dean shakes his head, "I - I dunno, Sam. I just knew I didn't want to lose you."

Sam gives a harsh laugh, nodding, "You got a helluva way of showing it, Dean! Helluva way!" Sam yells at him. 

Dean shakes his head slowly, sadly, tears shining in his own eyes, "I was scared, Sam. I -" he swallows hard, glancing away from his brother, toward the area where they had fought, before looking back at him. 

Catching the shift of Dean's eyes, Sam turns slightly, to glance down at the floor, before looking back at Dean, head shaking, jaw set in angry lines, "No," he tells him, voice raw, rough, "don't you do it, don't you blame this on me." 

**_"...So you make the simplest mistake, So you make the simplest mistake, and fearlessly you deny your involvement in my demise, But give me your open hand." ~ Simplest Mistake, Seether_ **

"Sam, I was hurting and stupid, I know that! It was an accident, Goddammit!"

Sam's eyes widened as he laughs harshly, "HA! An accident!?" he nods, "What happened, Dean? You accidentally fall down on her over and over again until your dick threw up!?" Sam growls, eyes narrowing angrily. 

Dean clamps his mouth closed as he looks at Sam, jaw clenched.

"Thank you, Dean." Sam nods, "thank you for letting me hear just how fucking stupid that sounds coming out of someone’s mouth!" he shakes his head, "You are un-fucking-believable!" Sam yells, turning away from his brother to walk shakily over to the bed, hand bracing on the foot board as he reaches it. 

"Who was she?" Sam asks Dean softly as he turns his head to look over at him, "I mean, it was a her, right!?"

Dean swallows hard, tearing his gaze from Sam to look down at the floor. 

"Ruby." he mumbles out. 

Sam's eyes widen again.

Ruby.

The very demon he refused to call on sooner in order to save him, all because Dean supposedly hated her!?

"Get out of my room." Sam tells him softly, though his voice is hard as steel.

"Sam,"

"Get out."

"Sam, let me explain!" Dean yells.

Sam's eyes narrow as he gives a curt nod, "Fine. You've got," hazel orbs slide to the alarm clock, 3:13 PM, before sliding back to his brother. 

"You've got seventeen minutes, make it good." Sam tells him, "Then I want you out of my room, and the hell away from me," Sam exhales slowly, "forever." he adds softly as he tears his gaze from his brother, hanging his head.

Dean swallows hard as a tear falls down his cheek. 

Giving a curt nod, Dean takes a deep shuddering breath, sniffling softly.

"I, uh," Dean's gaze roams over his brother.

He doesn't miss the way his brother's arms are shaking, his legs trembling as he stands there, head bowed, his eyes closed, breathing slowly through parted lips. 

"Sam, why don't you sit down?" Dean offers, taking a step toward him, arms outstretched toward Sam's, intent on helping him sit. 

"No." Sam tells him softly, as he slowly opens his eyes, though he keeps his head bowed, his gaze lowered. 

Dean stops mid-motion, his arms lowering as he looks up at Sam's face again, licking his lips nervously. 

"I'm not your concern anymore," he tells him softly before closing his eyes once more, "and you're running out of time."

Clearing his throat, Dean nods, "Okay," he tells his brother, hands curling into fists at his sides to keep himself from reaching out and pulling Sam to him, from begging Sam to not tell him it's over. 

From holding onto his brother and never letting go. 

"After," Dean pauses, seeing Sam's eyes squeeze tighter closed. 

"Uh, after we argued," Dean changes his wording, "I went outside, was drinking a helluva lot," he huffs softly as he shakes his head, "I dunno, Sam, I wasn't thinking, not really. I just couldn't get outta my head how badly I let you down."

Sam huffs softly, but doesn't move from his position, doesn't open his eyes. 

"I didn't see how you could ever forgive me for not being there when you needed me, for letting you down and I just snapped." he shakes his head, "And Ruby was suddenly there, she talked me through it, helped me." 

Sam's eyes squeeze tighter closed, his grip on the foot board tightening until his knuckles are white. 

Dean swallows hard, "I don't even know how it happened. One minute we were sharing the whiskey and the next we were..."

"Fucking." Sam finishes the sentence for him as he pulls his head up, straightening a little more before looking over at his brother. 

"So was it good?" Sam asks nodding slow, "Was it at least worth it, Dean? Worth ending us?" 

Dean slowly shakes his head, tears making silent tracks down his cheeks. "I -" his mouth opens and closes, "No," he tells Sam on a sigh, "I don't even remember much of it, just of knowing when it was too late that I was hurting you again... and then Ellen was there. Saw me, us." Dean tells him, bottom lip quivering. 

"I was so scared of losing you, Sam. I begged her not to tell." Dean tells him softly, voice wrecked as his face slowly crumbles. 

Sam eyes his brother, hazel orbs searching his face, "That when she hit you?"

Dean nods giving a harsh laugh, "Yeah, that was when."

Sam nods slowly, "Good." 

Tears slip from Sam's eyes even as he fights to stay strong, to hide his utter heartbreak from his brother. 

"How did she find you?" Sam asks, clearing his throat as he sniffles. 

Dean looks at Sam in confusion, before it slowly hits him that Sam doesn't know. 

"Ruby, she's... she's been here on and off since she found you for me." Dean tells him.

"She went with me when I killed those fuckers, she was here once in our room, when you were asleep." Dean tells him. 

Sam's brow furrows as he huffs, "So, it was more than once?"

"No, no, NO!" Dean tells him, growing angry as he thinks about what Sam is implying. 

"Hell no! I wouldn't touch that skank ass bitch with a stolen -" Dean starts to yell, only to stop, seeing Sam nod. 

"Yeah," Sam tells him sadly, "you would. You did."

"But, Sam," Dean shakes his head as he closes the distance between them, reaching a hand up to cup Sam's face, ignoring it when Sam tried to jerk his head back, "I swear to God, I didn't mean for it to happen. I love you," Dean tells him softly, jade orbs searching hazel, "It didn't mean anything."

Sam draws in a shuddering breath through parted lips, his gaze still locked with Dean's for a moment longer before his lids slid closed, tears spilling out, down his cheeks.

"Sammy?" Dean calls softly to him, jade orbs searching Sam's face. 

"You could have come to me." Sam tells him softly, the words a mere whisper of breath. 

Dean shakes his head as more tears slip down his face, "No, no I couldn't, Sam. I couldn't."

_You were the one I let down. You were the one I failed. I couldn't come to you. I was ashamed of how badly I failed you. Guilt at how I had fucked up was eating at me so damn bad, Sammy. I couldn't put that on you, I couldn't._

**_"I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh, I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away. I keep your photograph, I know it serves me well. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain…_ **

Sam's heart twists in his chest at Dean's words. 

I can't come to you, but I can screw a demon instead.

Dirty.

Filthy.

Stained.

Defiled. 

Sam slowly nods as he draws in a shuddering breath, bottom lip and chin quivering, more tears slipping down his cheeks. 

"I - I think we're done here." Sam tells him softly, eyes still closed. 

Dean's eyes widen, and it's in that moment that Dean realizes he does still have a heart, that it isn't just an aching empty place in his chest, because he can feel the thing stop dead in his chest, aching like a sonuvabitch.

"Sammy," Dean begs, all of it there in that one word.

Sam gives his head a small shake before he opens his eyes, gaze darting over to the alarm clock, 3:31 PM, before returning to his brother's face. 

"It's over now." Sam says softly, giving a small shake of his head, "I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." 

**_"...'Cause I'm broken when I'm open, And I don't feel like I am strong enough, 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome, And I don't feel right when you're gone away…_ **

Dean's chin quivers as he looks at his brother, jade orbs searching his face, searching for a second chance. 

Finally, Dean gives a small nod, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his sides before he turns heading to and out the bedroom door. 

The soft click of the door closing feels like a punch to Sam's gut.

As soon as Dean is gone and he is alone in the room, Sam allows himself the luxury of his tears as he stumbles the rest of the way to the bed and falls onto it, sobbing softly.

**_"...The worst is over now and we can breathe again. I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away. There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight. I wanna hold you high and steal your pain…_ **

Standing with his back against the bedroom door, Dean lets the tears come, allows himself that much as he hangs his head, his heart twisting in his chest.

All Dean has ever wanted, the only person he's ever really loved was behind that door, and it's over now. 

Over. 

He doesn't even bother to wonder how much of their life together is over.

He doesn't know if Sam means they have to go back to just being brothers, if they'll still hunt together, or if they've been reduced to family you get a post card from once every ten years during the holidays, if they don't forget to add you to their list that year. 

It doesn't really matter, any part of what they were, what they had meant to each other, being over is too much. 

Dean squeezes his eyes tightly closed as a low whine breaks from his throat, his legs slowly going out from under him as he slides down the door.

**_"...'Cause I'm broken when I'm open, And I don't feel like I am strong enough, 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome, And I don't feel right when you're gone away." ~ Broken, Seether_ **

Dean sits there on the floor, legs stretched out before him, just on the other side of the door from his brother, sobbing softly for what he has lost. 

_Sammy…_

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

He didn't know how much time passed, all he knew was that he seemed to have run out of tears, though deep soul wrenching whines still broke from his throat as Dean sat there on the floor. 

Slowly, he turns his head, looking toward the door.

_“I want you out of my room, and the hell away from me… forever.”_

**_“Your heart is not open, so I must go, The spell has been broken...I loved you so. Freedom comes when you learn to let go, Creation comes when you learn to say no…”_ **

Go, leave. 

Sam wants him gone. He can at least give him that.

At least do that right for him. 

Merely sliding sideways until he is forced to catch himself with his hands, Dean slowly begins to crawl toward then front door of the cabin. 

_"I think we're done here."_

_"It's over now."_

_"I can't do this anymore."_

_"I'm sorry."_

Dean's heart constricts painfully as Sam's words echo through his mind, a low injured whimper sounding deep in his throat as he moves slowly to the door on trembling arms and legs. 

His bottom lip quivers before he draws it into his mouth, holding it between straight white teeth, tears slipping from red rimmed jade eyes to fall onto the wood floor. 

**_“…You were my lesson I had to learn, I was your fortress you had to burn. Pain is a warning that something's wrong, I pray to God that it won't be long. Do ya wanna go higher?…”_ **

At the door, Dean reaches up, grabbing onto the handle, pulling himself to his feet, feet that feel as thought they are made of lead. 

He doesn't want to go.

Wants to run into that bedroom and tell Sam that they have to work this out, that he is just gonna have to forgive him because he sure as hell isn't going anywhere.

But, he doesn't. 

He's not going to let Sam down again. 

Head hanging, Dean sniffles as he turns the door knob and steps out onto the porch. 

The slamming of the door is like a punch to his stomach, stealing Dean's breath away as he stagger steps forward toward the Impala. 

**_“.…There's nothing left to try, There's no place left to hide. There's no greater power than the power of good-bye…”_ **

At the sound of the front door slamming closed, Sam rolls over onto his back in the middle of the bed, sideways, his legs hanging off the side, arms outstretched. 

Sam's shoulders shook as he cried softly, face wrecked, his eyes squeezed closed as tears slid down his face into the hair at his temples. 

A few moments later, the muffled sound of the Impala's engine roaring to life, fills the room, making Sam force himself to open his eyes, as he lifts his head, his gaze on the alarm clock.

4:02 PM

An hour and nine minutes, that's how long it has taken for his entire world to be turned upside down, for his heart to shatter, for Sam Winchester to realize just how worthless he is now. 

**_“…Your heart is not open, so I must go, The spell has been broken...I loved you so. You were my lesson I had to learn, I was your fortress…”_ **

With an anguished cry, Sam pulls up on the bed, nearly sliding off the process as he reaches out, grabbing the alarm clock in one hand before turning at the waist and throwing it worth all his might, teeth clenched together in his sadness and rage, at the window facing the parked cars. 

As Dean pulls from the cabin, tears stream from his eyes as if he no longer has control of his tear ducts, blurring his vision and making it hard to see. 

He never hears the window of his and Sam's bedroom shatter, glass raining down outside on the grass.

Never hears Sam's anguished scream of his name afterward.

The tail lights of the Impala slowly disappearing in the distance. 

**_“…There's nothing left to lose, There's no more heart to bruise. There's no greater power than the power of good-bye… Learn to say good-bye, I yearn to say good-bye…_ **

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, breaths coming in harsh pants as tears slid down his cheeks, the cool breeze blowing in through the broken window, bottom lips trembling as he waited, watched, hoped he would see, hear the Impala return, only to hear the rumble of the engine grow further and further away. 

Sam threw himself back against the bed, sobs shaking his shoulders as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. 

Dean drove to the first stop sign, unable or unwilling to look back, to move at all until he had gotten that far away.

Only then, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him, burning and stinging as tears fell from unblinking eyes, Dean's chin quivered before his face crumbled once more. 

Leaning forward he buried his face against the steering wheel, shoulders shaking as he wept openly. 

**_“…There's nothing left to try, There's no more places to hide, There's no greater power than the power of good-bye. There's nothing left to lose , There's no more heart to bruise. There's no greater power than the power of good-bye.” ~ The Power of Goodbye, Madonna_ **

* * * 

[One Month Later]

Sam sat on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

Ellen had put that there. 

His pain pills, antibiotics and a tall glass of orange juice sitting on the coffee table in front of him. 

Jo had put those there. 

Next to those sat a fresh box of kleenex, something he never left his room without. 

Leaving his room....

Bobby had done that. 

He sits there, legs folded Indian style on the couch, staring straight ahead into the black screen of the television. 

**_“Mmmm, mmmm… Say good-bye to not knowing when , The truth in my whole life began. Say good-bye to not knowing how to cry, You taught me that…”_ **

TV... Dean liked to watch TV. 

He absently wonders if his brother is watching it now. 

Sitting in some motel room somewhere watching television, or is he out at some bar, picking up the flavor of the week?

Who was he kidding?

It was Dean, he likely is watching TV with the flavor of the week after they had already finished...

Sam's face twists as he thinks of his brother with someone else. 

_"He cheated on you with a demon."_

Yeah, but who could blame him?

Sam's gaze drops into his lap where his hands lay loosely curled, a soft sigh falling from his lips. 

**_“…And I’ll remember the strength that you gave me, Now that I’m standing on my own. I’ll remember the way that you saved me, I’ll remember…”_ **

In the last month since Dean left, Sam barely ate. 

Only doing so when Ellen or Jo all but force fed him. 

Why did he want to eat?

Without Dean, food had no flavor. 

He wasn't hungry. 

He had no energy.

He just wasn't much of anything. 

A shell of a person, who simply sat there, taking up space. 

Lifeless slightly slanted orbs flicker up to the bottle of pain pills in front of him. 

He could just take them all and get it over with. 

Just take them and feel nothing finally. 

**_“…Inside I was a child, That could not mend a broken wing. Outside I looked for a way, To teach my heart to sing…”_ **

Maybe then the horrible ache in his chest would go away. 

Maybe. 

Sam's gaze darts to the glass of orange juice. 

Orange juice. 

He'd sobbed into the first glass of the stuff he'd had after Dean left. 

Remembering when Dean had held him before, helping him to drink when his eyes were so bad, when Dean had lied to him every day, telling him he wasn't ugly, wasn't dirty, that he was still beautiful. 

The corner of Sam's lips quirked up in a sad half semi smile. 

He'd scared poor Jo half to death when he's done that. 

Cried like that. 

Did Dean ever think of him and hurt? 

**_“…And I'll remember the love that you gave me, Now that I'm standing on my own, I'll remember the way that you changed me, I'll remember…”_ **

Or now that it was over, now that he had set Dean free, was he glad?

Glad to be rid of the burden of taking care of him. 

Lying to him. 

Sam leans forward slightly as he reaches out, grabbing the top of the bottle of pain pills with long fingers. 

Pulling them back as he settles against the couch again, popping the bottle cap, his gaze on the little white pills inside.

Oxycontin, it wouldn't take many of them. 

**_“…I learned to let go of the illusion that we can possess, I learned to let go, I travel in stillness… And I'll remember happiness… I'll remember [I'll remember]… Mmmmm... [I'll remember]… Mmmmm…”_ **

The front door behind him opened with a bustle of activity as Jo, Ellen and Bobby walked in carrying bags of groceries. 

"Jo, put those in the freezer!" he hears Ellen call out as he smells Jo's perfume float past him, hears her boots click across the wood floor. 

"I'm on it, ma!" Jo calls back, "Sam! We got you more orange juice!"

Sam nods as he sighs softly, recapping the pill bottle, leaning forward to replace it on the table. 

As he leans back against the couch once more, he feels Ellen's hand on his head. 

"You okay, darlin'?" she asks softly. 

Sam nods but doesn't speak, doesn't turn, just goes back to staring at the blank television screen.

**_“…And I'll remember the love that you gave me, Now that I'm standing on my own, I'll remember the way that you changed me, I'll remember… [I'll remember]… No I've never been afraid to cry, Now I finally have a reason why…I'll remember.” ~ I'll Remember, Madonna_ **

* * * 

[May - Second Month Since Break Up]

The light was low in the abandoned warehouse, hunters sit around a small table, some with booted feet propped up upon it's surface, two standing, leaning over a map, marking places known to be inhabited by demons.

"It's be a hell of a lot easier of we just had someone who would run straight though the center, grab their attention while the rest of us ran around back. We could get those fuckers while they were busy," he shrugs a shoulder. 

"Couple of us to cover the guy running," the hunters gaze slid to the lone woman among them, "or the bitch." he makes sure to add for the chick's benefit, eyes narrowed.

The woman gives a harsh laugh, shaking her head, "That's fuckin' crazy! A person would have to have a death wish and you know it, Jones!"

"I'll do it," the figure in the back of the room, sitting in a chair alone in the darkness uncrosses his ankles, pulling his legs down from where he had them propped up against the wall in front of him. "I'll be your 'rabbit'."

The woman, _Draven_ , looks over at the lone hunter. 

He usually doesn't say much, they all know he's had something bad happen to him. 

The death of a wife, a child, something. 

He just has that look. 

Well, that and the bottle of Jack he keeps at his side, tells his tale for him. 

Some say it was at the hands of a demon. 

They say it's why he's taken to killing them so relentlessly. 

Shaking her head she turns and starts for the back door, "Goddamn death wish, Winchester." she mumbles as she storms out.

Red rimmed jade orbs watch her go as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. 

Draven's a good hunter, even better to look at. 

Smooth cocoa colored skin, long ebony hair, dark slightly slanted eyes. 

Yeah, he has a problem looking into those, even if the color isn't the same. 

There would have been a day when he would have really looked, sampled. 

Before.

Never during. 

Just the one time.

The one time he barely remembers.

The time he wishes he could forget. 

The time that cost him everything.

After?

Nah, he's too dead inside and out to care. 

Stepping forward into the low light of the room, Dean gives a nod, "Let's do this."

**_“When you’re at the end of the road, And you’ve lost all sense of control, And your thoughts have taken their toll, When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul, Your faith walks on broken glass, And the hangover doesn’t pass. Nothing’s ever built to last. You’re in ruins” ~ 21 Guns, Green Day_ **


	12. Chapter 12

[July - Fourth Month Since Break up]

Sam sits at the kitchen table, hands upon the wood surface, food growing cold on his plate before him.

He stares at the bottle of Oxycontin on the table beside him, as if it holds the answers to all of his problems.

Ellen pauses as she walks out of the kitchen, her dark eyes running over Sam, seeing the untouched food and the way he's staring at the bottle of pills. 

Pulling out the chair across from him, she takes a seat, noting that he doesn't even flinch, doesn't move, just continues to stare as if he is lost in is own little world.

A world of pain and heartbreak where he doesn't seem to know the way back out. 

Reaching across the table, she takes hold of one of his hands in both of hers.

Sam jumps slightly, jerking away from her as he turns haunted, hallow eyes to look at her, glancing down at the hand she holds before his gaze meets hers again.

She offers him a small tight smile as their eyes meet, sighing softly. 

"You know, Sam. You can do that," she nods her head toward the pill bottle, "but then you won't ever see him again."

Sam glances at the bottle before he looks back at her. 

"I wasn't gonna -" Sam starts, his voice dead, emotionless, flat.

Ellen jerks his hand in hers, "Bull shit!" she spats, eyes narrowed at him angrily. 

"Bad enough you're being a damn coward about this, Sam. Don't lie about it." she tells him, shaking her head slowly. 

Sam's mouth opens and closes, but no words come out as he looks at her in slight shock. 

"I've thought a lot of things about you over the years, Sam," she tells him, chocolate orbs intent on hazel, "your brother too, but being a coward," she shakes her head, "I never would have thought that about you."

Sam frowns, lips pressed tightly together, glancing at the bottle before his gaze meets Ellen's once more.

"M'not a coward." he mumbles out. 

"Then stop acting like it, dammit! Get your ass together," he nods toward his plate, "start takin' better care of yourself and when you're stronger, go get that damn dumb ass brother of yours back!" she tells him before releasing his hand and pulling up from the chair. 

Sliding a hand into her front jeans pocket she pulls out a set of keys and slams them down on the table. 

"When you get yerself straight, you can have those to go get Dean back." She tells him with a nod. 

Ellen starts to turn and walk away, only to pause and look back at him. 

"Oh," she tells him, "and just so you know, you take those things," she says with a nod and a glance toward the bottle of pills, "and I will bring your ass back, just so I can fill ya fulla buckshot myself." she tells him, before continuing into the kitchen without a backward glance. 

* * * 

[September - Sixth Month Since Break Up]

Sweat pools in the grooves and valleys of his upper chest, where the V-neck tee doesn't cover, doesn't soak up the sweat. 

Muscles ripple and bulge as he moves, weights making the motion more difficult, but he forces himself to do it, pushes past the weakness, the pain. 

**_“Don't give up, 'cause you have friends. Don't give up, you're not the only one. Don't give up, no reason to be ashamed…”_ **

Slightly slanted hazel eyes intent on the ceiling as he lays flat on his back on the floor, lifting the hand weights up above his body, legs tugging outward against the tension bands around his ankles as he strength trains, fights to get into shape again, to be more like his old self and not the useless weakling he has become. 

He doesn't blame his body for it anymore, knows that it went through hell, but the time to mourn that is over. 

It's time to get better, to take his life back as best as he can. 

It doesn't mean that the nightmares don't still plague him, it's a slow and painful process.

Physically as was well as mentally. 

Emotionally, he's still a wreck and only Ellen's words playing over and over again in his mind, seem to keep him going most days. 

**"Don't be a coward, Sam."**

**_“…Don't give up, you still have us don't give up now, we're proud of who you are. Don't give up, you know it's never been easy…”_ **

Keep him from saying to hell with it and taking the damn pills that sit on his dresser now. 

Taunting him, reminding him. 

They're almost as bad as the fact that two of his pillows still smell like Dean.

But he can't bring himself to ask Ellen or Jo to wash them. 

Instead he holds them tight at night, holds them and breathes in his brother's scent. 

The scent of home. 

As much as it emotionally destroys him, it also gives him strength.

Dean...

**_“…Don't give up, 'cause I believe there's a place, there's a place where we belong.” ~ Don’t give up, Peter Gabriel_ **

His bedroom door swings open to reveal Jo standing there, a small smile on her face as she looks down at him. 

"You about ready, Sam?"

Sam nods to her as he slowly lowers the weights to the floor, unhooks the tension bands from his ankles as he pulls up to sitting. 

His breaths are labored, sweat runs down his face as he looks at her, lips parted, face red.

Lifting a hand to wipe away the sweat from his forehead he gives a small smile. 

"Don't go easy on me today though." he tells her. 

Jo smiles wider making cute dimples in her cheeks show. 

"Nah, I'm gonna kick your ass, Winchester." she tells him before turning, hands sliding into the back pockets of her jeans as she all but skips to the front door. 

Sam smiles, hanging his head as he shakes it. 

She's almost as cocky as Dean... almost. 

* * *

His back is pressed against the rough stucco of the building, pistol in hand, rifle slung over his shoulder as he peers around the corner into the alley, waiting, listening. 

Two demons stand there in the alley chattin' it up with some unsuspecting bimbo here in the dead of night on the bad side of this infested town. 

It isn't a hard thing to figure out what they're after and the thought of it twists something inside Dean's stomach. 

_Don't do it, it'll ruin your life._

Hooker or not, he can't help but want to scream that to the little blond bimbo as she stands there in silver spandex popping and cracking her gum. 

Gum she is likely chewing on only to cover the scent of her last John on her breath.

A gentle hand lands on his shoulder and Dean all but jumps out of his skin, head snapping to the side, red rimmed jade orbs wide. 

"Hey, easy," Draven tells him, "you need to relax a little." she tells him, leaning closer to look past him, toward the alley.

His back flats more against the wall, trying to escape her touch as she leans over him, breasts brushing against his chest, his shoulder. 

Pulling back, Draven frowns at him, "Whoever it is, man, they're gone," she shakes her head, "and I was only looking over your shoulder. Chill," she gives him a pointed look and a nod, "seriously."

He swallows hard, eyeing her, but doesn't say anything. 

Doesn't tell her that he isn't gone, that it isn't what she thinks, doesn't explain anything to her, only tears his gaze away to look back into the alleyway. 

"Let's move." Draven says, voice edged in steel, as she begins creeping forward.

**_“I’ve been searching for an easy way To escape the cold light of day, I’ve been high and I’ve been low, But I’ve got nowhere else to go, There’s nowhere else to go” ~ Holy Grail, Hunters and Collectors_ **

*

The battle is brutal and bloody, what had looked like an easy sweep and clear has turned into a total blood bath.

No longer is it six hunters against two demons with hard ons for a little human flesh, instead as soon as the little ragtag band of hunters attacked; demons, hundreds of them, seemed to crawl outta the damn woodwork, the prostitute included. 

_Sonuva…_

The hunters put up a valiant fight, but in the end, only two remain standing. 

Draven and Jones surveying the alleyways littered with bodies of the fallen. 

A low groan of pain catches Draven's attention, has her climbing through the garbage and debris littering the cement, until she sees a body laying under a some loose boards. 

Digging through, tossing boards away, she finally catches sight of one distinguishing item on the hunter, before she sees his face. 

The pendant he wears. 

"Winchester!" Draven calls to him, throwing boards and garbage faster as she works to uncover his entire form. 

Laying on the ground, a pool of blood under him, is Dean Winchester, face bloody, his jacket and shirt and soaked with it, his left leg under his knee has a small pool that is steadily growing bigger. 

"What the hell happened!?" she asks him, pushing his jacket and shirts out of the way to try to see his wounds. 

"F-f-f-fuckers stabbed me in the goddamn knee!" Dean grounds out, words slurring as his body begins to shake. 

There is a long slice in his side, running from mid section downward, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans, blood oozing steadily out. 

"Goddamn you, Winchester! I told you this was gonna happen you stubborn ass," she yells at him as she reaches for him. 

"Jones! I got one! Winchester!" she yells as she grips Dean's wrist, throwing his arm around her neck.

* * * 

[October - Seventh Month Since Break Up]

Everyone is seated at the table, Sam working on his third helping of food as Bobby's cell rings, drawing everyone's attention.

Bobby looks from one face to the other, "What!? Can't a man get a phone call!?"

Sam gives a small smirk from behind the biscuit he is devouring as Jo presses her lips together, hanging her head to hide her grin. 

Ellen simply glares at him as Bobby pulls from his chair, flipping open his cell. 

"Yeah?"

"Happy Halloween."

Bobby frowns, "Dean?"

Sam's fork falls into his plate with a clatter as he lifts his head, eyes wide, staring at Bobby, his heart twisting and pounding in his chest.

_Dean?_

Dean sighs into the phone, "Yeah, Bobby, it's me. How's Sam?"

Bobby frowns harder as he nearly looks at the phone as if Dean can see the 'are you stupid?' look on his face. 

"How the hell do ya think he is, ya idjit!? Where the hell are you!?"

The line is silent for a long moment. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm here Bobby. I - I can't come back. I just wanted to make sure he was alright. I'm sorry, guess I shouldn't have called."

"What the hell...? Are you high!?"

Dean manages a chuckle, "Mmm... maybe a little. I got into some trouble... I'm okay now, but, pain killers, ya know?" 

Sam pulls to his feet, holding a hand out, pleading with his eyes as he looks at Bobby. "Lemme talk to him," Sam asks softly, tears stinging his eyes, "please."

Bobby looks at Sam and sighs. 

"Dammit ta hell!" Bobby huffs, "Sam wants to talk to ya!"

"No! Bobby no!" Dean yells into the phone, but he doesn't hear him as he hands the cell to Sam. 

Blinking back tears as he tried to reign in his emotions, Sam slowly raises the phone to his ear. 

_SonuvaBITCH!_

Dean flips his cell closed quickly, bringing his fisted hand up to his mouth as jade orbs fill with tears. 

"D - Dean?" Sam says softly into the phone, but no one's there.

*

Dean rolls over on the small cot in his darkened corner of the room, well away from everyone else, just the way he likes it, wants it, how it needs to be. 

Grabbing the extra pillow, he hugs it to his chest, burying his face against it. 

In Dean's mind, it's not a pillow, but Sam's neck and he isn't breathing in the smell of linens, it's Sam's smell, his scent; soap and berry shampoo and the scent that is uniquely Sam's alone. 

"I love you, Sammy." he whispers into the darkness as a single tear rolls down his cheek, splashing against the white linen covering the pillow he holds so tightly.

**_“Every night you cry yourself to sleep. Thinking why does this happen to me? Why does every moment have to be so hard? Hard to believe that It's not over tonight, Just give me one more chance to make it right, I may not make it through the night. I won't go home without you” ~ Won’t go home without you, Maroon 5_ **

Dean starts to try to relive the last few days with Sam over in his head, before their lives were ripped apart. 

Gazing up at the clouds, holding hands, laughing, kissing. 

**_“If I never feel you in my arms again, if I never feel your tender kiss again, if I never hear "I love you" now and then, will I never make love to you once again? Please understand, if love ends, then I promise you, I promise you that, that I shall never breathe again. Breathe again, breathe again, that I shall never breathe again…”_ **

*

Sam slowly makes his way into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, he removes his boots and sets them neatly aside before his hands go to the fastenings of his jeans, his motions mechanical, unthinking. 

Simply moving by what he knows to do.

His mind still on Dean's phone call from earlier. 

He didn't want to talk to him. 

Hung up. 

Pulling his jeans off as he stands, Sam bends, hooking a finger in his socks, tossing them off.

Climbing into the bed, it seems larger somehow tonight. 

Colder. 

Reaching for the two pillows that smell like Dean, Sam pulls them into his arms, hugging them to himself, burying his face against them, breathing in his brothers scent. 

**_“...And I can't stop thinking about, about the way things used to be, and I can't stop thinking about, about the love that you made to me. And I can't get you out of my head; how in the world will I begin, to let you walk right out of my life and throw my heart away?…”_ **

*

"Sam, I'm so sorry." Dean whispers softly against the pillow, turning his head slightly to wipe his tears against the cotton fabric. 

"I never meant to hurt you." he says sniffling softly. 

**_“...And I can't stop caring about, about the apple of my eye, and I can't stop doing without, without the center of my life. And I can't get you out of my head, and I know I can't pretend that I won't die if you decide you won't see me again…”_ **

*

"Why won't you talk to me, Dean? I'm sorry, I just want you back." Sam whispers softly into the darkened room. 

"I miss you so much." he says, as tears slowly slip from his eyes to slowly run down his cheeks, soaking into the soft cotton pillow cases. 

**_“…If I never feel you in my arms again, if I never feel your tender kiss again, if I never hear "I love you" now and then, will I never make love to you once again? Please understand, if love ends, then I promise you, I promise you that, that I shall never breathe again. Breathe again, breathe again, that I shall never breathe again…”_ **

* 

Dean thinks back to the first time he and Sam kissed, the first time they actually let themselves do what they wanted, take what they needed from each other. 

Remembers how he told Sam that he was the only thing that mattered in the world to him. 

It was true, _is_ true, they both knew it, felt it. 

After they'd kissed, touched, had sex, their feelings were just on a whole new level, it only seemed to make things better, their bond stronger. 

They complimented each other. 

Sam's day to his night. 

Everything had been going so fucking well... he should have known, somewhere in all of it, he should have fucking known. 

Things just don't seem to ever work out for Dean Winchester, and thinking that this could... he's failed them both... again. 

**_“...And I can't stop thinking about, about the way my life would be. No, I can't stop thinking about, how could you love me then leave? And I can't get you out of my mind, God knows how hard I've tried, and if you walk right out my life, God knows I'd surely die._ **

**_"And I can't stop doing without, without the rhythm of my heart. No, I can't stop doing without, for I will surely fall apart. And I can't get you out of my mind, and I know I can't deny, and I would die if you decide you won't see me again.” ~ Breathe Again, Toni Braxton_ **

"M'so sorry, Sammy." Dean whispers on a choked muffled sob before pressing the pillow tighter against his face as he cries softly in the dark.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

[November - Eighth Month Since Break Up]

Sam stands out on the porch watching the setting sun, arm raised, leaning up on the of the support pillars.

Not that he needs it, not anymore, now it's merely a relaxed stance, as he take a long pull from the dark amber bottle he holds, his gaze on the russet and pink sky as the sun starts to dip behind the trees. 

Inside Ellen and Jo are clearing the table, cleaning up from the Thanksgiving dinner Jo insisted she make. 

Bobby is coming, he was right behind him, but then there had been mentions of pie and cake and Sam had lost the elder hunter somewhere back in the dining room. 

One knee slightly bent, that foot braced on top of the other, Sam's posture is completely relaxed, even when he hears her booted feet walking on the porch across from him, he keeps the same pose, though a muscle in his jaw twitches as he pulls the bottle from his lips and swallows with a sigh. 

**_“Blackest of the black, Darker than night, Come to me my bleeding light. See she comes, She comes now, Enter oblivion…”_ **

Tearing his gaze from the distance sky off on the horizon to glance down, shuffle his feet, so that he's standing flat footed he crosses his arms over his chest, bottle still in one hand. 

"What do you want, Ruby?" Sam asks, still not looking over at her.

Ruby tilts her head to the side, watching him from where she stands a few steps away, arms crossed over her chest, one blond brow arched. 

"What are you thankful for, Sam Winchester?" she asks him, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. 

Sam's arms fall to his sides with a sigh before he brings the bottle up to his lips, "Certainly not you." he tells her on a huff as he shakes his head slightly, gaze darting to the bottle in his hands before he brings it to his lips and takes a long pull. 

"Drinking?" she asks him, taking a step closer, "Sometimes you remind me so much of your brother, Sam." she tells him, stopping to stand in front of him, blue eyes gazing into hazel as Sam looks at her, pulling the bottle away from his lips. 

"Root-beer, Ruby," he huffs, holding the bottle up so she can see it as he rolls his eyes. 

Sam frowns, brows raised and nods, "I take that as a compliment anyway." he tells her, lifting the bottle back up to his lips as he takes another drink, though his eyes stay on her face.

Ruby unfolds her arms raising one hand as Sam pulls the bottle from his lips, to cup his cheek. 

**_“…Here she is, Harder than life, In my arms. See she there, Entwined with love, Unclean she is. And she comes down to me, And she offers me sleep, Under her black wings…”_ **

"How much like your brother are you?" she asks him softly.

Sam's gaze narrows on her, as he pulls back from her touch, the demons hand falling to her side. 

Sam shakes his head, "I'm not drunk." 

"No," she tells him, her blue eyes fixed on his hazel, head bowed just slightly in a seductive pose, "but you are hurting."

Sam shakes his head as he takes a step back from her toward the door, his gaze fixed on hers. "Not that bad, I'm not."

Ruby scoffs, rolling her eyes as she steps forward. "Don't be a racist like your brother." she spats softly, tearing her gaze from his to walk over to one of the porch chairs, leaning back against it, hands braced against the arm. 

She returns her attention to him, blue eyes sliding to black as her lips slowly curl into an evil smirk. 

"We can't all be perfect." she purrs, shrugging a shoulder.

Sam's eyes narrow at her, muscle twitching in his jaw as he clenches it. 

"No," he admits, shaking his head, "not perfect. But a hell of a lot better than you."

_**“…See she comes, On the eve of dusk, In another form. With a scent of rain upon her neck, She brings the lust… Supernatural, Ceasing never… On and On and On…”** _

He isn't talking about himself anymore and they both know it, know he's referring to his brother. 

Ruby's eyes slid back to blue as she watches him place the empty bottle on the small table nearby. 

Tearing her gaze away, she shrugs. "He needed someone and you," she looks back over at him, "weren't there." 

Sam clenches his teeth together, muscle twitching in his jaw as he glares hard at her. 

"And you made sure that you were." he says, voice low and full of contempt. 

Ruby's lips curve into a small smirk as she sighs and turns her head, looking down at the porch, then back at Sam once more. 

"Just being a good friend," she says before slowly pulling away from the arm of the chair and stepping toward him.

**_“…Her stride is such, Mortals freeze, When she walks past, And she comes down to me, And she offers me sleep, Under her black wings…”_ **

Closing the distance between them her tongue darts out, the tip panting over her lips as she gazes into champagne hazel eyes.

Her lips curve into a wicked smile as she reaches a hand up, pushing back his bangs with a finger tip, "A really, really good friend." she purrs, leaning in, her mouth near his ear.

Sam's eyes slid to the side, looking over at her as he swallows, tries to control the want to just rip her out of her meat suit and send her screaming back to hell. 

Ruby slowly pulls her head back, blue eyes intent on hazel until her gaze drops to his lips, darting back up to meet his gaze once more as she leans in, pressing her body against his. 

"Been a long time Sam," she tells him softly. 

Catching her bottom lips between her teeth, she looks up at him over her brows, shrugging a shoulder. 

"I mean, since you were in charge," she taunts, a smirk pulling at her lips as Sam releases the breath he'd been holding in a nearly anguished rush.

"I can make you forget that, Sam. I can help make it all better." she says as her hands moves to slide slowly up his chest.

**_“..See she comes, Blacker than pitch, Have to make this fallen bitch, All I want, All I crave… Demoness calls…"_ **

Her hand slowly moves over the light button up he's wearing, fingertips sliding under the fabric where he left it unbuttoned, slipping under the V-neck tee he has on to slide against his bare flesh, her gaze intent on his face.

Sam swallows as he watches her, his gaze locked with that of the before him. 

Giving a small nod, Sam lifts an arm, his hand sliding slowly up her side, "Yeah? Can you?" he asks her softly, licking his lips, "Can you make the pain go away?"

Ruby slowly nods, her gaze locked with his as her other hand moves to his hip. 

Sam nods in return, "Can you bring me my brother back?" he asks softly, just before he moves quick, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back as he reaches up and grabs a handful of blond hair, slamming her face down hard on the table before them, "you fuckin' bitch!" he growls angrily between clenched teeth.

**_"...The bitch is come, For those who wait, Cross the breach in hell. See she is Bedeviled with breasts, Enchantment on legs… And she comes down to me, And she offers me sleep, Under her black wings.” ~ Under Her Black Wings, Danzig_ **

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..." Sam begins as he leans over her, growling the exorcism in her ear.

Ruby pulls back against Sam's hold on her head, lifting her face away from the table, blue eyes sliding to black as she grits her teeth. 

"Fucking _bastard_ ," she yells, turning quickly, her leg bending, knee jabbing hard upward, connecting with Sam's groin. 

**_“Cheater cheater where'd you meet her down at Ernie’s bar? Did she smile your way twirl her hair and say, how cute dimples are? Did she use that line 'your place or mine' while you danced with her real slow? tell me cheater, cheater where'd you meet that no good white trash ho?…”_ **

In automatic response to the blow to his balls, Sam's body bends, his hands falling away from the demon to cup himself. 

Lips part as a rush of breath leaves Sam before his breaths catch in his throat, eyes nearly watering. 

Before Sam has a chance to recover enough to do anything more, Ruby reaches out, grabbing a handful of his chestnut hair, bringing her bended knee up once more, slamming his face down against it. 

Sam staggers back as Ruby release her hold on him, falling onto his back hard on the wood porch, a low groan of pain leaving him. 

"Funny," Ruby spats, "I didn't see you as the jealous type, Sam." she says as she walks toward him.

**_“…Liar, liar did you buy her whiskey all night long? Did you hide your ring in the pocket of your jeans or did you just keep it on? When the deed was done an you had your fun did you think I wouldn't know? tell me cheater, cheater where'd you meet that no good white trash ho?…”_ **

Sam glares at her through his pain as he starts to try to get up, only to be held as he is, where he is, by demon power. 

Tearing his gaze from Ruby's face he looks down at his arms against the porch, tugging at them, struggling to pull up.

His gaze returns to the demon, eyes narrowed, jaw set in stubborn lines, lips pressed together, nostrils flaring. 

"Ooh, is that suppose to be your _'scary'_ look, Sam?" Ruby asks tauntingly as she chuckling softly, shaking her head, "Because it's quite pathetic."

**_“…Now I'm not one to judge someone that I ain't never met, But to lay your hands on a married man's bout as low as a gal can get. Hey I wish her well and she rots in hell and you can tell her I said so. Cheater, cheater where'd you meet that no good white trash ho?…”_ **

Sam licks his lips, his angry gaze steady on the demon bitch before him, “Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare…”

Standing between legs, which are bent at the knee, booted feet flat against the porch floor, Ruby lifts a booted foot, crushing the high heel down against Sam's nuts. 

"Shut _up_!" she bellows, her hands clenched into angry fists at her sides. 

Sam's head falls back, though he is holding his upper body off the porch on his elbows, breaths panting out as pain flairs through his groin, into his stomach, feeling like he was just kicked, like me might just throw up. 

Slowly pulling his head up, he manages to narrow his eyes at her through the pain, “Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt…”

**_“…Loser, loser hope you love her cause your stuck with her now, Take your sorry butt load up all your stuff and get the hell out of my house but I just wish you'd tell me this one thing before you go, Tell me cheater, cheater where'd you meet that no good white trash ho?…”_ **

"Aauugh!" Ruby growls in rage, grinding her heel into Sam's groin.

Sam grits his teeth, head falling back as his hands slide, fingertips gripping that the rough wood of the porch, a groan of pain tearing from his throat. 

"I told you to _shut_ the hell _up_ ," Ruby growls angrily.

Sam slowly pulls his head up, pain clouding his hazel eyes as he looks at her and starts to open his mouth, only to find that he can't.

Sam's eyes widen slightly, nostrils flaring as he struggles against the demon hold on him, fights to open his mouth, to speak.

Ruby tilts her head, lips slowly curving into a wicked smile as she sighs softly. 

" _That_ is _so_ much better," she nearly purrs, leaning more of her weight down, crushing more against his groin. 

Sam groans in pain, breaths panting out through flared nostrils as he glares at her, head falling back a second before he pulls it up again.

Ruby leans over him, bracing an arm on her bent knee as she gazes at Sam through narrowed eyes. 

**_“…Now I'm not one to judge someone that I ain't never met, But to lay your hands on a married man's bout as low as a gal can get. Hey I wish her well and she rots in hell and you can tell her I said so. Cheater, cheater where'd you meet that no good white trash ho?…”_ **

"You wanna hear about it, Sammy?” she purred wickedly. You wanna hear _all_ about how I fucked your brother?" 

"Well, let's see," she begins, licking her lips slowly a malicious smile curving her lips, "Did he tell you how I found him? Did he?" she inquires. 

Sam's hate-filled gaze narrows at her as he jerks at the demon hold pinning him. 

Ruby gives a soft chuckle as she watches him, "Aww, gettin' jealous already, Sammy?" she shakes her head making tsking sounds with her tongue against her teeth. 

"After he finished smashing the hell out of his car, I saw him reach into the trunk," her lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, "He grabbed a rifle. Wasn't I surprised when the stupid ass put the barrel to his head." 

Sam's eyes widen with shock.

Dean had been going to kill himself? 

No. No way. 

But even as he rejects the idea, even as some part of his mind screams, 'demons lie', Sam knows it's true.

"But you weren't there for him," she continues, black eyes sliding to blue as her voice softens, "I was." 

**_“…Yeah I wish you tell me this one thing before you go, tell me cheater, cheater where'd you meet that low down uptown, slept with every guy around, pressed on eyelash, no good white trash ho?” ~ Cheater Cheater, Rory and Joey_ **

"I told him how it wasn't his fault, how he did as what he could to help you. Told him how he shouldn't feel guilty for not calling me," she gives a small smile, shrugging.

"Had it been me, I still wouldn't have called." she sighed softly, eyes narrowing, "And then I told him to use me. To vent his anger and frustration and pain and use me. Told him how he can't hurt me, can't break me. 'Do it', I told him, 'Do it'." her lips curve into a full smile before she shrugs a shoulder, slowly lifting her booted foot from his groin, placing it down on the porch. 

"So, he did. That was it, that's all. You were the center of his thoughts the entire time. He even cried out your name, begging your forgiveness." she huffed, "Cried like a damn baby." she mumbles, rolling her eyes as she shakes her head. 

"Pathetic really," Ruby tells him, just before the front door of the cabin creeks open and the sound of rifle fire ricochets through the trees, Ruby's blood splattering against Sam's face and upper chest, just before her demonic hold on him vanishes.

Sam gasps, lips parting as he pants in his breaths, scurrying back away from the demon, eyes wide with shock. 

Sam continues to move back away from her until his back hits one of the pillars holding up the porch awning. 

Blue eyes slide to black as they narrow into angry slits, Ruby's breath leaving her in a rush through parted lips. 

Looking down at the gaping hole in her chest, the demon grits her teeth. "Sonofabitch!" Ruby growls out, turning on one heel, to face Ellen who is standing at the door, cocking the rifle and aiming it at the demon once more. 

"I think I already told you to shut your damn mouth once. You wanna try for another hole? This one in your forehead?" Ellen asks, jutting her chin upward, "I doubt that meatsuit will do ya a hell of a lot a good then." Ellen snaps at her, brown eyes narrowed on the demon bitch.

Ruby glares at Ellen for a long moment. 

Turning on the heel of her booted foot, Ruby flips a lock of blond hair over her shoulder, storming past Sam and off the porch, disappearing around back of the cabin. 

Sam turns his head, eyes wide, breaths panting out as he watches her go before swallowing hard, and returning his gaze to Ellen.

* * * 

[December - Ninth Month Since Break Up]

Sam sat forward on the couch, his head bowed as he stacked the poker chips and gathered up the cards he and Bobby had been playing with. 

The sound of the shower water running behind the closed bathroom door gave testament as to where Bobby was now, what he was doing, Ellen and Jo cleaning up in the kitchen. 

Bobby's cell, wallet and keys sat on one of the end tables nearby.

Pulling to his feet, cards and chips in hand, Sam glances at the Christmas lights that Jo has hung in the window and sighs, shaking his head. 

"Hate Christmas." he mutters under his breath as he rolls his eyes, turning to walk over to one of the small cabinets, placing the cards and chips inside. 

Bobby's cell ringing draws Sam's attention, head turning toward it, his lips parting as he stares dumbfounded at the cell as if he's never seen one before. 

_What if it's Dean?_

Numbly closing the cabinet, his gaze fixed on Bobby's cell, Sam slowly walks toward it on legs that suddenly felt made of lead. 

Looking down at the display as he reaches the table, Sam's breaths hitch. 

Dean was written across the display.

Reaching out with a trembling hand, Sam slowly picks up the cell.

Flipping it open, Sam slowly brings the phone up to his ear, swallowing back emotions as he hears his brother's voice. 

"Merry Christmas, Bobby. Hey, listen I got some questions for ya, you got a minute? Sam around?" 

Sam's lips part as he blinks away his tears. 

"D - Dean?" Sam says into the cell softly. 

There's a long silence, so long that Sam starts to think maybe Dean has hung up on him again. 

"Sammy?" Comes Dean's soft reply.

Sam gives a small huff as he chokes back tears, nodding, though Dean couldn't see him. 

"Yeah," he says softly, "S'me."

Dean clears his throat, sniffling softly. 

Sam can tell his brother is crying. 

**_“Is this home, is this where I should learn to be happy? Never dreamed that a home could be dark and cold… I was told ev'ry day in my childhood even when we grow old home will be where the heart is, never the words so true, my hearts far, far away… home is to…”_ **

"I - I didn't mean to," Dean sighs, "Is Bobby there?"

Sam closes his eyes letting out a slow breath, "Uh, yeah, um, he's in the shower."

Again, the same long pause, neither of them seeming to know what to say. 

"Where - where are you?" Sam asks, breaking the silence. 

"I - I'm hunting, y'know." Dean answers, "S'all I know. All I got."

Sam nods as he sniffled, "Are you - how are you?"

"Alive," Dean huffs, "surviving, I guess. You? How are you? How are the nightmares? You doin' any better, ba-" he pauses, clearing his throat, correcting himself, "Sam?"

Sam smiles slightly as a tear rolls down his cheek, "Yeah, I'm - I'm hangin' in there."

"Good. Good."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I miss you."

Dean hangs his head as tears roll down his cheeks, nodding as he chokes back the sob that wells in is throat, "Yeah, me too, Sam. Me too."

"Come on, Winchester! You're usually the first one outta the gate! What's the hold up!?" Draven yells from the door of the warehouse. 

Sam frowns hearing the woman's voice in the background, heart twisting. 

_Flavor of the week._

Sam sniffles, "So, I guess you're busy."

"What?" Dean asks, "Oh, you mean, Draven? Nah, she's just a hunter. A really scary hunter. Pointed teeth, claws, rancid breath," Dean jokes making a show of shuddering, just so he knows Sam can hear it. 

Sam smiles wider, "Yeah, is that so?"

"Oh yeah, scary bitch, lemme tell ya. I only keep her around cause she's a helluva shot and she cooks a mean pie," Dean explains, smiling through his tears. 

Draven walks up to Dean, standing beside him, glaring into his face. 

"Tell yer sweetheart you'll call 'em back later, Winchester. We gotta go!" Draven commands before turning to walk away, pausing after a few steps to look back at him over her shoulder, "Wouldn't want me to kick your ass with my 'rancid breath' would you?" she asks him, perfectly arched dark brow quirking. 

Dean blinks at her, "Uh, heard that, huh?" 

Draven gives a nod. 

"Oh hell," Dean mumbles, hanging his head.

Sam chuckles on the other end of the line, bringing Dean's attention back to the fact that he's talking to Sam and away from the fact that Draven likely _will_ kick his ass later.

"Sam, I - I love you." Dean tells him fast, before flipping the phone closed. 

"I love…" Sam starts, only to stop as he hears the phone go dead. 

**_“…Is this home, is this what I must learn to believe in? Try to find something good in this tragic place, just in case I should stay here forever, held in this empty space… oh but that won’t be easy. I know the reason why… My hearts far, far away, homes alive…” ~ (beginning of) 'Home', Beauty and the Beast Musical_ **

Pulling the cell from his ear, Sam smiles down at it, as he wipes at his tears with his free hand. 

Carefully, as if it's made of glass, Sam places the cell back down on the end table.


	13. Chapter 13

[January - Tenth Month Since Break Up]

Dean sits alone, perched on a stool in the dark seedy bar along the boardwalk, his back to the wall, facing the door.

Some things, even in a drunken stupor are hard to let go of, to forget, to not do as if on autopilot. 

Facing the door, danger, however possible it may or may not be, was one of the things Dean could never seem to let go of, no matter how drunk he got trying to chase away the pain in his chest. 

He hadn't called Bobby since Christmas night, hadn't talked to Sam since then. 

Sure, he'd opened his cell, running his thumb down the display to Sam's name, staring at it for long periods of time, only to flip the cell closed once more with a sigh.

Things had gone well that night, their talk, hearing Sam's voice. 

Dean wasn't gonna fuck it up callin' again and maybe gettin' this one more good memory tarnished. 

It was something he held close to his heart, that accidental conversation. 

Had every word that had fallen from Sam's lips memorized and could plainly hear him say them over again in his mind whenever he really thought about it. 

Did so often. 

Draven had even commented on the 'spark' in his eyes she claimed was there after he hung up the cell that day. 

Dean wasn't so sure if he believe in some 'spark', but yeah, he'd been happier than he could remember being in a long damn time. 

Had actually played it safe that night on the hunt. 

Which had ended up to be a good thing, seeings as he had saved all their asses that way. 

Draven had smiled at him and shook her head, but to her credit, she never asked. 

Never inquired about the phone call or tried to get him to talk about his 'feelings', thank God. 

He sits at the bar now, nursing his fourth bottle of Jack chased with beer, his head hanging, shoulders hunched, forearms resting on the rough wood bar. 

"Is this seat taken?" asks a deep smooth voice at his right side. 

Dean glances over from the corner of his eye, just enough to catch the sight of a brown jacket, but nothing more. 

Shaking his head, Dean pulls back from the bar, rolling his shoulders, his gaze on the glass of whiskey before him. 

Glancing at the guy standing next to him, Dean's brows furrow. 

He has to look up...and up to see the guys profile, sees the mop of shaggy chestnut locks nearly covering the dudes features.

As the guy motions to the bartender ordering his drink, Dean notices his large hands, fingers long and well shaped. 

Turning his head toward the guy, he watches as the guy slowly takes a seat next to him.

Dean frowns as he continues to watch him, watch as the dude smiles when his drink is brought over. 

The dimples that indent his cheeks as he smiles. 

Glancing down at the drink he has, Dean notes that it's a beer, just a beer, his gaze lingering on the large hand curled around the amber bottle. 

"Hi, do I know you?" the guys asks him suddenly as he looks over at Dean, catches him looking at him, watching him. 

Dean frowns hard at the idiot, who is too damn friendly to strangers for his own good. 

He's gonna get his ass in trouble. 

"No," Dean nearly growls out from between clenched teeth. 

The guy nods, lips pressed together. 

Pretty lips, bottom lip full, top lip slightly thinner, both a soft pink color. 

The kind of lips that make you wonder just how they would taste. 

Tearing his gaze away from this friggin' dumb-asses lips, Dean huffs, motioning for another bottle. 

Apparently, he's gonna need it.

**_“…what I’d give to return to the life that I knew lately but I know that I can’t solve my problems going back. Is this home? Am I here for a day or forever?…”_ **

*

The house was silent, his room dark as Sam lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, one hand laying across his chest. 

Where was Dean?

What was _he_ doing? 

Was he having problems sleeping tonight too?

Sam had thought often about calling Dean, about asking him to come back. 

But, each time Sam had scrolled down to his brother's name on his cell, he had simply closed it, not knowing what to say, what to do. 

Soon, he could go see Dean face to face. 

It would be better that way. 

No, lying, no hiding, face to face. 

Sam was nearly back to his former self physically, even if mentally and emotionally he was still a wreck sometimes, he never left the four walls of the cabin. 

Not since he and Dean had spent their evening out.

Always feeling as if he needed to have someone else there, still too afraid to be left completely alone.

What if Dean hadn't gotten them all?

What if there were still a few out there?

Or even just one? One was enough. 

Skinny was the worst. 

At night, as he lay in bed alone, there were times that he would still be tossed back there into that dark abyss. 

Only to finally manage to pull himself out, screaming his brother's name. 

With a sigh, one hand gripping the sheet that covered him to his waist, Sam closes his eyes and tries to think about how the meeting might go when he finally saw Dean again. 

The feel of his brother's arms around him, knowing they were finally back together... where they belonged. 

Kissing him, touching him... 

Sam's hand slowly slides down his bare chest as he draws his bottom lip into his mouth, holding it between rows of straight white teeth. 

It was warm in the cabin and Sam had opted to forgo a shirt, laying in bed in just his boxers.

Sliding his hand farther down, underneath the sheet, Sam runs it over his cotton clad cock, gasping in a breath as he arches his neck back, hips bucking, thrusting his cock upward against his palm. 

"Dean..." his brother's name a whispered plea into the darkness of the room. 

**_“…Shut away from the world… until who knows when, oh but then, has my life has been altered to once it can change again, build by the walls around me. Change every lock and key. Nothing left nothing holds all of me. My hearts far, far away… home and free.” ~ (last half of) ’Home’, Beauty and the Beast Musical_ **

*

Dean's fidgeting more than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as Romeo sits next to him getting hammered on nothing but a couple of beers. 

He's slid closer to Dean, telling him his life's story, gazing at him with those slightly slanted eyes of his. 

What the fuck is it with people and slightly slanted eyes!?

Did God find every last one of the fuckers and shove them into his life or what!?

Of course, like Draven, the color is wrong. 

Instead of being champagne hazel with a cat-like kaleidoscope of colors swirled within their depths, this guy has blue eyes. 

Sure, they're nice, stunning even, but they still aren't right. 

Not the eyes he should be, wants to be staring into. 

So far he's learned that Casanova was going to college to be a doctor, but then he quit, went into hunting just a few damn months ago. 

Dean huffs at that. 

Could the kid be any greener?

Apparently the kid came home for Christmas to find his grandparents and his kid sister slaughtered... by demons. 

His parents, the kid says, were lucky, they were spared that when they were killed a couple of years before in a car accident. 

Drunk driver. 

Dean doesn't have the heart to tell the kid that it wasn't some damn drunk driver, that he's willing to bet dollars to donuts that it was a demon too. 

Instead he just sits there listening as he fidgets on his stool, trying not to notice the way the kid's hair has this fruity smell. 

Sure, it isn't the same berries as Sam, but it's still fruit. 

Where Sam's hair smells like blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, some damn thing like that, this kid's hair smells like papaya, nectarines, grapefruit... somethin'.

For Dean's part of the conversation, he's sharing and caring has included telling his name, and only his first name. 

That's it, nothing more. 

Even that he gave begrudgingly. 

Sort of growling it out at the kid, when he all but fell into Dean's lap when his elbow missed the edge of the bar and Dean had to catch him before the guys face had a very intimate contact with his crotch.

**_“You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you…”_ **

Dean sighed, shaking his head as he looked at the kid, who was sort of weeble wobbling on the stool as he sat there, one hand gripping the edge of the bar so tight his fingertips were white. 

With a glance around the place, Dean huffed.

It was full of low lives and he was damned sure if he left Mr. Greenhorn here, alone for even a second, they'd be all over him, robbing him blind and God only knew what else. 

_Sonuva…_

Reaching out, Dean grabbed a handful of the kid's jacket in one fisted hand, "Come on," Dean grumbled as he slid off his stool.

"Were we goin'?"

Dean rolled his eyes, and right away decided that wasn't a good idea. 

Apparently he was more drunk than he had thought. 

"I'm goin ta take a piss," he eyed the guy, "and you, you're gonna," he shook his head, "I dunno, jus' come on." he mumbled, tugging the kid along behind him.

* 

Sam's hand slides back up over his quickly hardening cock, along the ridge of it's length, palm pressing down hard. 

He hasn't done this, touched himself like this since the hell he went through. 

Hasn't allowed himself to feel. 

Even the one time he and Dean had tried, there had been a part of him that hadn't felt worthy, hadn't felt clean enough, wasn't sure. 

Even as much as he had wanted to. 

For Dean. 

His breaths are starting to come faster, heavier, chest rising and falling with each one as his hips arch his cock up against his hand.

Pressing his lips together, his nostrils flare as he pants his breaths, his hand sliding under the thin cotton of his boxers to wrap around his cock, slowly starting to slid along it's length, stroking himself. 

Sam's lips part on a low moan, eyes sliding slowly closed as he writhes against the bed, hips arching, bucking his cock into his fisted hand. 

His eyes open again quickly, the abyss is too close, to near in this moment that if he can't see, he might get sucked in. 

**_“…Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell. Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself…”_ **

Biting his bottom lip, holding it between straight white teeth, Sam glances down at himself as he pulls his dick out from under the cotton of his boxers. 

His hand on the bed, slowly moving downward to cup his balls, as he pumps his cock, low moans and soft groans breaking from his throat.

*

Dean glances over at the kid who is more or less propped up against the wall, one arm thrown over the paper towel dispenser so he doesn't slide down to the floor as he stands there while Dean takes a piss. 

"I still dunno why I'm here." Doctor Young slurs drunkenly as his head rolls against the wall, his blue eyes glazed as he looks around the dirty bathroom. 

Dean huffs and shakes his head, trying to focus on the piss he needs to take.

"Hey, you need some help?" 

Dean slings a startled glance at the kid, taking a small step further away from him, "No, I - I got it." Dean tells him, half afraid that ole 'Fred Astaire' over there is gonna come over here and start with his version of 'Dancing in the Rain' as he holds onto his dick or some damn thing. 

He hears the kid sigh, but he doesn't come over, thankfully.

It's then that Dean's bladder finally decides to listen to his brain and he can piss. 

Head tilting back, Dean taps the toes of his booted feet as he pisses, waiting to just get done and wishing he'd hurry the hell up already before 'Doogie Howser' decides he really _does_ need to be helpful. 

As he finishes, Dean tucks himself back into his boxers, and fastens his jeans, then turns and walks to the sink, glancing at the kid, who has suddenly gone oddly quiet. 

His head's tilted back against the wall, eyes closed and dammit to hell if he doesn't look like Sam in that moment.

Gritting his teeth, Dean turns on the water, a hell of a lot harder than he needs to.

Washing his hands quickly, Dean turns the water off and starts to turn to walk over to the towel dispenser, only to nearly run smack into the guy as he is suddenly standing right there behind him. 

"Uh," Dean quirks a brow at him, "we okay?"

The kid smiles slowly at him, deep dimples marking his cheeks as he does, slightly slanted blue eyes intent on jade.

"You have pretty eyes." 

Dean clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

_And yours are almost perfect... almost._

The kid lifts a hand, index finger point at the side of Dean's nose as he wobbles on long legs. 

"You have freckles, Dean-nie." 

Dean's eyes slowly narrow at the kid, a muscle twitching in his jaw, watches as he leans in, his lips inches away from Dean's. 

"Why do you keep looking at my lips?" the kid whispers out. 

Had he been looking?

Dean doesn't even know, but it's all he can take, that's it, he just can't take it anymore. 

**_“…I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside, I want to fuck you like an animal. My whole existence is flawed, You get me closer to god…”_ **

Jade orbs flicker from slightly slanted sapphire orbs, down to the kids lips and suddenly his own tingle to touch them, to kiss, to taste.

His gaze darts back up to the kids just before his hands rise, grasping handfuls of his brown jacket and over shirt roughly, rushing him backward until his back slams into the wall. 

The kid's eyes squeeze tightly closed as his breath leaves him in a rush on impact, but before he can think, can move, can speak, Dean is slanting his mouth over his, tasting, caressing, exploring, taking.

* 

Muscles tense, ripple and bulge, a fine sheen of sweat covering his brow as Sam continues to stroke himself, his hand moving faster, the grip on his balls tightening just a little, just the right way. 

Face flushed a deep crimson, neck arched back, lips parted as he pants his breaths. 

Eyes slowly slide closed as he thrusts his hips, his cock harder into his fisted hand.

_The mattress dips, his legs are spread wide, even as he’s shaking his head._

_He can hear himself beg, “No, please.”_

_“Shshsh, we're gonna do somethin' different ta day.” he hears Skinny tell him._

_He can feel Skinny's hand wrap around his cock, slowly starting to pump him._

_Sam remembers shaking his head harder, "No! Don't, don't, don't..."_

Sam's eyes fly open wide, a started breath gasping in as his head raises up off the pillow, his gaze darting about the room, his hand on his cock having stilled.

Looking down, Sam sees his own hand wrapped around his hard flesh, his own hand cupping his balls. 

_It's just me. Just me._

Sam's head falls back against the pillows as he sighs in relief, swallowing hard, breaths still harsh and heavy.

Head rolling on the pillows, Sam's gaze darts about the room, landing on the mirror at the foot of the bed, behind the dresser.

Releasing his cock, Sam pulls his hands away from his groin, rolling slightly to reach down onto the floor, long digits hooking the sleeve of his tee laying there. 

Bringing it up, he crumples it in one hand as he pushes up, moving onto his knees at the foot of the bed. 

Laying the tee out in front of him, head bowed, his gaze on what he's doing, Sam blows out a breath.

His gaze darts up toward the mirror once again, before he lifts his head, looking at his reflection, brow furrowed. 

If he can see himself, see that he's the one touching, the one stroking, he figures it's the best way for him to be able to do this. 

**_“…You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings. You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything…”_ **

The darkness can't creep in on him if he can see, if he sheds enough light on the truth of the situation. 

Seeing himself in the mirror, knowing that there is no one else there, seems like the way, shine a spotlight on the fact that he's okay, that he's safe.

His gaze darts down to his still very erect cock, jutting upward toward his stomach. 

Licking his lips before catching the bottom one between straight white teeth, he wraps a hand around his dick, glancing up at himself in the mirror before lowering his gaze again as he slowly starts to slide his hand along the length of his shaft. 

A soft moan tumbles from his lips as he lifts his head, eyes slowly closing, only to force them open again, to watch himself in the mirror, watch the movement of his own hand on his hard flesh.

*

Dean's lips tearaway from the kids as he shoves a thigh between the guys legs, grinding it against the kid's hard denim clad cock, his teeth grazing against the guy's jawline, nipping, licking, leaving open mouth kisses along his flesh, working his way back to the kid's neck. 

The guys panting out his breaths, muscular chest rising and falling with each one, his arms just hanging at his sides, head rolling slowly against the wall, hips bucking against Dean's leg. 

"That's it, Sammy. God, feel s'good." Dean whispers softly against his neck, hot breath ghosting over sensitive flesh. 

**_“…Help me tear down my reason, help me its' your sex I can smell. Help me you make me perfect, help me become somebody else…”_ **

"Huh? Wha...?" the kid mumbles out before Dean pulls his head back, crushing their mouths together once more. 

His tongue thrusting deep inside the guy's mouth, tangling them together.

Dean runs the tip over the roof of the kid's mouth, along the backs of his teeth, mapping him out as low moans spill hungrily from Dean's throat, his own hips thrusting his hard cock against the guy's hip.

Dean pulls one hand from the kid's jacket, reaching between them to fumble with the fastenings of his jeans, tugging open the guy's button and lowering the zipper. 

Ending the kiss, Dean sucks hard on the kid's bottom lip, slowly releasing it.

"S'good, Sammy. God, I've missed you." Dean tells him in a soft breathless whisper before leaning in, mouth at the guy's throat, teeth sinking in to bite, before his tongue darts out to sooth the sting. 

The kid gulps air into his lungs, feet slip sliding against the floor as he tries to hold himself up, hips thrusting against Dean's leg, grinding his hard cock against muscled thigh. 

"Mmm... yeah, oh God..." he whispers breathlessly, slightly slanted blue eyes blinking, his head tilted back, lips parted as he pants, his arms now wrapped around Dean, fisting in his leather.

**_“…I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside, I want to fuck you like an animal. My whole existence is flawed, You get me closer to god…”_ **

*

Sam's hips are thrusting his aching cock faster into his fisted hand, breaths parting out through parted lips as he strokes himself, his other hand cupping his balls.

Gaze intent on his reflection, unwilling to allow himself to close his eyes for fear the darkness will find him, suck him down into it's inky depths, Sam blinks away the droplets of sweat that are rolling down his forehead, falling into his eyes. 

His face flushed a deep scarlet, muscles tense and straining as he chases after is release. 

"Dean..." Sam grits his teeth, head falling back a moment before he pulls it up, staring once more at his reflection, watching as his hand works his cock.

Watches as precum pearls thickly at the tip, slowly running down the side, wetting his fingers, smearing with each stroke of his hand.

Heat starts to pool low in Sam's belly as moans and groans fall from his parted lips, mixing with his ragged breaths. 

The crimson stain bleeds downward, spreading from Sam's face down his neck to his chest, muscles bulging and tense, the tendon in his neck showing as muscles clench, balls drawing up. 

"Ohmygod, Dean!...." Sam gasps out, eyes widening a second before his head falls back, eyes squeezed tightly together, teeth clenched as the first rope of spunk shooting from his cock. 

Sam's breaths pant out in near cries of pleasure as his body convulses, his orgasm ripping through him leaving his body trembling, sated and exhausted in it's wake. 

As Sam's head falls forward, he releases his balls, grabbing onto the foot board to keep himself from falling over, head hanging, breaths panting out from between parted lips as he blinks away sweat from his lashes. 

"Oh my God..."Sam pants the words out in a breathless slur, "Holy shit..." 

**_“…Through every forest, above the trees, Within my stomach, scraped off my knees. I drink the honey inside your hive, You are the reason I stay alive.” ~ Closer, NIN_ **

* 

Dean's hand slides around the kids hip under his shirts, bare flesh against bare flesh before he pulls his hand downward, tugging at the waistband of the guy's jeans and boxers. 

"Need you," Dean tells him breathlessly, voice a soft growl. 

"Mm," he kid nods, "Mkay, mkay." 

The guys hands pull from Dean's jacket, going to the Winchester's jeans fastenings, digits drunkenly fumbling in their haste. 

"Oh God, Sammy.... S'good. S' good." Dean mumbles, warm breath fanning the kid's ear as Dean continues to kiss and bite at his neck. 

"Mm, jus' - jus' one thing" the guy tries to get out, though his words are halted as Dean pulls his head back, slanting his mouth over his. 

"Sammy," Dean growls as he nips and licks at the guy's full bottom lip before crushing his mouth to the guy's once more. 

The kid, manages to turn his head, hands pulling from Dean's body to hold his hands up. 

He holds up a finger as he looks into Dean's impatient face. 

"I - I'm not Sammy." 

Dean's brows furrow as if the guy isn't making any sense. 

The kid shakes his head slightly, "M - My name's Joshua," he nods, "Josh," he shakes his head, "not Sam."

Dean pulls completely away from him, taking a step back, hands falling from the guy as he looks at him as if he's never seen him before. 

Lifting a hand to run his thumb over his bottom lip, Dean hangs his head.

_SonuvaBITCH…_

Glancing up at the kid, Dean gives a nod, "Uh, yeah, sorry." he mumbles out as he turns toward the door, rushing out of the room before the guy can say another word.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)   
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

[March - In a Week it will be One Year Since Break Up]

Dean sits in the same bar, he hasn't went back there since the the incident with Jake, or Jared, or Josh or Jeff or whatever the hell the kid's name was. 

Hadn't wanted to come back on the off chance that he see him again.

What the hell was he gonna say if he did?

_'Sorry man, but I don't do guys. I thought you were my brother. I do HIM, but that's it, so sorry for the mistake.'_

Yeah, that definitely wasn't gonna happen. 

On the plus side, he's been busy.

Damn busy.

Demonic activity had gone on a new rise around the town and he and the little rag tag band of hunters he associated with had been up to their arm pits in black smoke pukin' assholes. 

It was only now that they all seem to have the chance for a breather. 

Dean doesn't sit alone at the bar this time, instead he's at one of the tables in the back, sitting with the other hunters he knows. 

And no, Dean definitely wouldn't call them his friends, not any of them. 

Well, Draven is about as close to a friend as he's got out here, but he still keeps the hell away from her. 

Keeping to himself is what's best for him, for all of them, and it's how he likes it. 

So no one really notices when he stops talking, stops contributing to the discussion going on around him, his attention instead focused on a couple toward the front of the bar, arguing.

"I can't believe you, Caleb! I just can't believe you! Get away from me!"

"But, Lizzy, I love you!"

"No!... If you loved me, you wouldn't have went to HER!"

Give it up, Caleb. Just walk away, man. Just walk away. 

Dean thinks as he frowns, leaning back in his chair as he watching the young couple, crossing his booted feet at the ankles as he stretches out his legs in front of him, arms crossing over his chest. 

**_“Lately I've been lonely, Lord knows I don't like that feeling. Anymore than you like feeling lonely too. I don't know which one's to blame, But for me it's not the thing for us to do…”_ **

"Lizzy... I was stupid, I know that. I have no excuse other than that I was hurting and not thinking and so damn stupid. I'm sorry."

Dean sighs as he watches 'Lizzy' cry, shaking her head at her boyfriend. 

You screwed up, Caleb. Deal with it. She's not gonna forgive you for that. 

Dean's head tilts to the side as he looks at the girl. 

She's pretty, damn pretty. 

Long blond hair, petite, sweet face, full lips. 

Dean's gaze darts back to the guy.

_Yeah, Caleb, you're screwed. Might as well just walk away now. Believe me. It's all you can do. Been there, man. No matter how much you want to turn back the clock, you can't._

**_“…The way it was, the way we were, Baby, you and me is where it was at, And I want, I want us back…”_ **

Dean watches as Caleb reaches up, his hands cupping both sides of Lizzy's face as he looks down at her, looks like he's crying to and Dean sighs, tearing is gaze away to look down at the tips of his boots. 

"Lizzy, please..."

"Was it good?"

Dean's gaze darts back up at the couple.

_...the HELL!? What, did they hand out a fuckin' book on saying that!? What the hell!? Where was I when they handed out the damn rules on this one!? Sonuva…_

His gaze focuses on Caleb.

No! The answer is no! I don't care if it was the best fuck of your life, you tell that girl no!

He watches Caleb frown, "What - what do you mean?"

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes, head falling back as he looks up at the ceiling. 

You _dumbass_!

When Dean slowly lowers his head, looking back at them, Lizzy slaps Caleb across the face and Dean sighs shaking his head. 

_I can't even stick up for ya there, man. You deserved that one._

"Lizzy! It's not like that! I didn't... what do you want me to say!?"

"The _truth_! Just - just get away from me! I hate you! Hate you! Hate you!"

"Lizzy please, don't say that... I love you..."

Dean sighs shaking his head as he hangs it, peering up at them from under his brows. 

_If you love her, fight for her. She hasn't told you it's over. There's no way in hell you've fucked up as bad as me. Grow a goddamn pair and fight, kid!_

**_“…We've come too far For us to give up on tomorrow. Where we've shared so many good time yesterdays, If I know you like I think I do, I know that you don't want to lose The me and you, I'm dying to save…”_ **

"You wanna know what hurts the most, Caleb, huh?" Lizzy sniffles, "It's that she loved you, she touched you. It was suppose to be me."

Dean clears his throat tearing his gaze away. 

"No, Lizzy, no. She didn't... it wasn't like that. Hell, I barely remember... I was so drunk and I was just stupid. Give me another chance, please. If you do, I swear to God, I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Please..." 

**_“…The way it was, the way we were, Baby, you and me is where it was at And I want, I want us back…”_ **

Dean blinks away the moisture that has gathered on his lashes, taking a deep breath as he looks away from the couple who are now hugging, kissing and speaking softly. 

**_“…I want to feel your love all over me, Wrapped up in us is where I want to be And I want, I want. I want to feel your love all over me I want, I want us back…”_ **

Dean pulls abruptly to his feet. He knows what he has to do, what he wants more than anything, what he is going to do. 

Clearing his throat he looks down at the table full of hunters who have all stopped talking to look up at him.

Jade orbs seek out and find slightly slanted dark brown as he gives a nod, "I gotta go." he tells Draven, tearing his gaze away, jaw clenched muscle twitching as he starts to walk away. 

"You take care of yourself, Winchester." Draven calls after him. 

_**“…Lately I've been lonely, Lord knows I don't like that feeling Anymore than you like feeling lonely too.”~ I Want Us Back, Craig Morgan** _

Dean doesn't acknowledge her words as he continues to and out the door, a slight limp to his stride, the drizzling rain outside bothering the knee he'd been stabbed in months ago. 

"Where's he goin'?" Jones huffs. 

Draven tears her gaze away from the now empty doorway to look over at him, "Somewhere a hell of a lot better than here," she looks down at her shot of Bourbon and shakes her head frowning thoughtfully, "he won't be back."

* * * 

[Six Days Later]

"Sam!" Ellen's voice calls from the kitchen, though the clip clop of her booted feet tell him she is heading his way, so he merely stops outside his bedroom door to wait for her to round the corner. 

As she does, she offers him a small smile, "There's left overs in the fridge. I made enough for you to take with you tomorrow, sandwiches and stuff. You have enough drinks to last you," she pauses and blinks at him seeing how he's trying to hold back a chuckle that seems intent on working out of him. 

**_“Oceans apart day after day , and I slowly go insane. I hear your voice on the line, but it doesn't stop the pain. If I see you next to never, How can we say forever?…”_ **

"Ellen, I'll be fine. It's okay, I'm gonna leave first thing in the morning, so," he shrugs a shoulder. 

"Well, take that food!" she tells him, pointing at him, just as Jo walks by carrying bags toward the door, handing her mother two of them. 

Sam nods, "I will."

Ellen eyes him a moment, "Well, you know your brother's always hungry."

Sam nods again, smiling, "Yes, I know."

**_“…Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you…”_ **

Ellen nods before brushing past him, following Jo out the door with their bags.

Bobby steps up to Sam as the women make their way out the door. 

"Make sure you don't ferget nothin'." Bobby tells him. 

Sam nods, "I won't."

"An' I ain't talkin' about the damn food either!" Bobby snaps, though he's not really angry, more worried. 

Sam nods, "Yeah, I know, Bobby."

The elder hunter nods, "Alright then," he tells Sam, eyeing him, "ya know if'n ya ever need anythin'..." he says, not finishing his sentence, letting it trail off. 

"Yeah, I know." Sam says, voice soft, before he hangs his head for a moment. 

Looking back up, Sam nods, offering a small smile, "M'good. I got everything I'll need and soon I'll have Dean too, so..." he gives another curt nod. 

**_“…I took for granted, all the times, that I though would last somehow. I hear the laughter, I taste the tears, but I can't get near you now. Oh, can't you see it baby? You've got me goin' crazy…”_ **

Bobby presses his lips together eyeing Sam a moment longer, "You sure you're alright stayin' here by yerself? I mean, ya know, ya might ferget somethin'..." 

They both know that's not why Bobby asks, but neither point out the truth. 

Sam nods, "Yeah, I'll be okay." 

Bobby nods and takes a step closer, before they hug, patting one another on the back as they do. 

Pulling apart, Bobby slaps Sam on the shoulder, "Ya take care of yerself, Sam."

Ellen and Jo both come back inside, Ellen walking over to Sam first. 

"C'mere you and gimme a hug," she orders affectionately, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tighter than a bear before releasing him. 

Stepping back she looks at him a moment, "The truck needs oil sometimes, just keep an eye on the gauge." Ellen tells him before glancing at Bobby, " _Someone_ told me they'd fix it a while back." she mumbles, but no one points out that things had kinda gotten sidetracked for the last couple of years. 

**_“…Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you…”_ **

First looking for Sam.

Then looking after Sam.

Yeah, easy to forget a leaky truck in all that. 

Sam nods to her, "S'okay, I'll take care of it," he assures softly, "I'll bring it back too," he adds as she starts to walk off. 

Looking back over her shoulder at him, she smiles and waves a dismissive hand. 

"Nah, it's a hunk a junk anyway," she retorts with a wink, before turning and heading toward the door. 

"Let's go, old man," Ellen calls as she reaches the door tugging it open.

Sam looks over at Bobby who is glaring at the now empty door way before he glances at Sam, "Ya think anyone would notice if'n I…" Bobby glances at Jo who is smirking at him and clears his throat, stepping past them both as Sam and Jo laugh. 

Sam's attention goes to Jo as their laughter dies away. 

Jo smiles up at him, "Wow... after," she shrugs, "you know," she licks her lips, "I really didn't think I'd like you much anymore," she muses.

"Well, it wasn't me," Sam starts only to have Jo cut him off as she nods, "Yeah, I know,” he assures gently, “but still..."

Sam nods his understanding. 

**_“…I wonder how we can survive, This romance, but in the end if I'm with you, I'll take the chance…”_ **

"But, it was..." she nods, "good seein' ya, Sam. Sorry it had to be," she glances around the cabin, "like _this_ ," she offers a smile and nods again. "But… yeah."

Sam nods, "Yeah, me too." 

Sam steps forward, giving her a small quick hug before stepping back, just as a horn blows outside. 

Jo rolls her eyes, "I guess I best go."

Sam nods, chuckling softly, "Guess so." 

Jo turns almost abruptly, hurrying to and out the door. 

A smile adorns Sam’s face as he watches her disappear out the door. 

Slowly, he walks over to the door and throws the lock into place, careful to not break the salt line in front of the door.

**_“…Oh, can't you see it baby, You've got me goin' crazy. Wherever you go, Whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you. Whatever it takes, or how my heart breaks, I will be right here waiting for you…” ~ Right Here Waiting For You, Richard Marx_ **


	14. Chapter 14

Blacktop stretches out before him like some dark sea that is trying to keep him separated from Sam no matter how fuckin' fast he drove. 

Glancing back down at his cell laying in the seat beside him, Dean huffs, snatching it up for at least the hundredth time, only to once again, toss it back into the seat. 

Wait. 

He should wait until he gets there. 

Plead his case when he was face to face with Sam. 

Not now, not like this, not over a fucking cell. 

_Sonuva…_

He's never had a complaint about his car before, hell, he loves his damn car, but right now, he wishes that it could go fuckin' faster. 

Not that he hasn't been doing 90 for the past eight hours. 

He's crossed two state lines so far, but he's still got three to go. 

With a huff, Dean leans forward, clicking on the radio. 

**_“How do I, Get through the night without you? If I had to live without you, What kind of life would that be? Oh, I…”_ **

_Sonuva…_

Goddamn witch DJ's anyway!

Them with their fucking knowing the exact moment when they can rip your fucking heart out through your damn ass!

Dean tears his gaze away from the road to glare down at the radio as if it really has thought this through and picked a sad love song, just for him. 

Fumbling with the dial, Dean finds only more sad love songs, each one worse than the last. 

With a sigh he leans back in the seat, sure that DJ's, the radio itself, hell maybe GOD is against him and this is penance for being a dumbass. 

Fine. 

He can deal with that. 

Maybe.

**_“…I need you in my arms, need you to hold, You're my world, my heart, my soul, If you ever leave, baby you would take away everything good in my life…”_ **

Frowning at the blacktop, the headlights shining on it's surface lighting his way, Dean thinks about Sam. 

What's he doing right now?

It's dark, late... is he in bed already?

Is he asleep?

Lifting his arm he glances down at his watch.

11: 15 PM

Dean sighs softly lowering his arm. 

Maybe. 

He wonders if Sam's sleeping alright, is he having nightmares?

**_“…And tell me now, How do I live without you? I want to know, How do I breathe without you? If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?…”_ **

Dean thinks back to their last good day together, cloud watching.

He can't help the smile that tugs at his lips as he thinks about it.

There was so no pie up there in the clouds. 

Nah, that had been a fib, just to make Sam wonder about him. 

As always, Sam fell for it. 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

Sam was always a gullible kid. 

**_“…Without you, There'd be no sun in my sky, There would be no love in my life, There'd be no world left for me. And I, baby I don't know what I would do, I'd be lost if I lost you, If you ever leave, baby you would take away everything real in my life…”_ **

Pie.

Mmm... pie sounded really good. 

No, Goddammit! He was NOT stopping for pie!

Even if it would be really, really good...

Dean frowns at himself, his stomach, as he fidgets in the seat. 

Yeah, totally not the time for eating. 

Of course, he hadn't been doing a helluva lot of that since he left Sam.

Not like he usually does anyway.

Well, okay, he did... but he didn't enjoy it, dammit!

**_“…And tell me now, How do I live without you? I want to know, How do I breathe without you? If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?…”_ **

Dean watches as another lit up sign announcing that he has entered a new state passes by. 

Two more to go. 

Almost there. 

Almost. 

His foot presses a little harder down on the accelerator. 

**_“…Please tell me baby, How do I go on? If you ever leave, baby you would take away everything, I need you with me, baby don't you know that you're everything, real in my life?…”_ **

He tries not to think about what he's gonna do if Sam tells him no, if he insists that it's still over.

After all, it's been a year and after the last call, he never called him.

Of course, he didn't call either, but that's different. 

He tries not to worry that he's making this whole trip for nothing. 

No, not for nothing, even if Sam says that he's not leaving until he makes him see, gets him to forgive him. 

Something. 

If Caleb, the little shit, can do it, so can he, Goddammit!

Yeah, it'll be okay, it'll work out. 

It has to. 

At least that's what he keeps telling himself every time his stomach ties itself up in knots. 

**_“…And tell me now, How do I live without you, I want to know, How do I breathe without you? If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh how do I live? How do I live without you? How do I live without you baby?” ~ How Do I Live, Leann Rimes_ **

*

Sam sighs as he sits down on the couch, staring again at the black television screen. 

It's quiet, too quiet and he can't stand it. 

Pulling up, he walks over, clicking on yet another light, there are so many lit already the electric company either really loves him or hates him right about now. 

Walking past the radio he clicks that on, then returns to the couch, reaching for the remote to turn that on too. 

Better. 

Not great.

Not even good. 

But better.

**_“Came in from a rainy Thursday, on the avenue, thought I heard you talking softly. I turned on the lights, the TV and the radio, still I can't escape the ghost of you…”_ **

Sam glances at the clock with a sigh.

Midnight. 

He isn't even tired. 

Well, maybe he is, but he's not at all sure he can sleep alone in the cabin. 

Turning slightly, Sam lays down on the couch, legs pulled up, knees bent so that he fits as he lays on his side, facing the TV, though he's not really watching. 

Instead, he thinks of Dean.

Wonders if he calls if Dean will answer. 

Bobby plans to track Dean's cell for him later tomorrow so he knows his local. 

He'd mentioned something about L.A. once, Bobby thinks maybe that's where he is. 

**_“…What has happened to it all? Crazy, some'd say, Where is the life that I recognize? …Gone away…”_ **

He thinks back to better times with Dean, of kissing and touching, of just holding hands and sharing smiles. 

Thinks about how he use to be the one to go get coffee for them in the mornings so that Dean wouldn't have to. 

About the almost shy secret looks his brother would give him from over the rim of the cup as he took his first sip. 

**_“…But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world. Somehow I have to find and as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive…”_ ** __

Sam has no idea what he's gonna say when he finds Dean however. 

Not a clue. 

Beg his forgiveness, for him to let them try again?

Tell him that he really didn't want him to go?

It's been a year...

**_“…Passion or coincidence, once prompted you to say, "Pride will tear us both apart". Well now pride's gone out the window, cross the rooftops, run away, left me in the vacuum of my heart…”_ **

A year.

Same amount of time he had been without Dean before.

When he was being held against his will. Tortured, raped. 

Sam's hand clutches at the seat cushion as he fights back memories that try to assault his mind. 

**_“…What is happening to me? Crazy, some'd say. Where is my friend when I need you most? …Gone away… but I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world, somehow I have to find and as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive…”_ **

Being apart then was worse, what he went through was worse, but he needs his brother just as much. 

The ache in his chest to see him just as strong. 

Glancing at the clock again, Sam squeezes his eyes closed. 

1:00 AM

Not the time to set out to find Dean, not yet. 

He told Ellen and Bobby he would get a good nights sleep first. 

Blinking his eyes open Sam vows to make good on at least one of his promises to them, seeings as he hasn't eaten anything like he said he would. 

He just wasn't hungry. 

His stomach tied in knots.

**_“…Papers in the roadside, tell of suffering and greed, here today, forgot tomorrow, ooh, here besides the news of holy war and holy need, ours is just a little sorrowed talk…”_ **

Pulling up, Sam sits on the couch, holding is face in his hands. 

Eat. 

Maybe he'd go eat, it would pass the time. 

Then he could leave.

Could head out in search of his brother. 

Something, anything to keep him busy, so he didn't think about it anymore. 

Pulling from the couch, Sam heads for the kitchen. 

**_“…And I don't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world. Somehow I have to find and as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive…” ~ Ordinary World, Duran Duran_ **

*

Dean smiles and nods to the officer as she hands him his ticket before walking away.

Rolling his eyes, Dean throws the car back into gear, tossing the ticket behind him into the backseat. 

"Yeah, as if." he mumbles under his breath, pulling back out onto the interstate. 

Of course, it would be just his luck to make it all the fuckin' way there and then get pulled over. 

By some damn female cop who obviously had her priorities out of whack, since his usual charming smile hadn't fazed her. 

Glancing at his cell in the seat next to him, Dean snatches it up and pushes the send button. 

His anger at being pulled over making him just reckless enough to chance a call to Sam. 

Hopefully he wasn't gonna blow it by doing so. 

He listens as Sam's cell rings then goes to voice mail.

Flipping his own closed, Dean frowns, tossing the damn thing back into the seat next to him.

Why wasn't Sam answering?

Did he see it was him and not want to talk?

Was he still that mad?

Maybe the conversation before didn't mean anything. 

That thought had him nearly turning around, but not quite. 

No, he was gonna do this, even if they fought all damn night. 

Or what was left of it. 

Pulling an arm up, he glances at his watch.

2:14 AM

Damn, maybe Sam's just asleep. 

Nah, he doesn't sleep that sound. 

Unless he's having a nightmare.

That thought has him flooring the gas pedal once again, to hell with bitchy police gals on the damn rag. 

If Sam needed him, he was gonna fuckin' be there, goddammit. 

*

Dean is pulling down the small road heading toward the cabin. 

He can see that every fucking light in the place is on, can see the outline of Ellen's truck, but not Bobby's. 

All of these things only lead to his being more afraid for Sam. 

What the hell is going on?

Why is every light in the place on?

Did something happen to Sam?

Did Bobby go for help?

Is Ellen with Sam?

What happened to Sam, Goddammit!?

All of these questions swirl in Dean's mind as he pulls the Impala to a screeching halt just inside the driveway. 

Throwing the car door open, Dean slides from behind the wheel, one hand going back to his gun at his waistband as he runs for the door. 

"SAM!"

Sam steps out of the bathroom and walks across the room to his cell, he could have sworn he heard it go off, but, being in the middle of taking a piss... yeah, so he hadn't rushed out to grab it. 

Reaching his cell, Sam starts to pick it up when his attention goes to the front door, frowning. 

He could swear he just heard a door slam outside. 

But, who would be here?

Stepping quickly and quietly into his bedroom, Sam grabs his gun off the dresser. 

Sam frowns as he looks toward the window of his room, hearing what sounded like his name being called from outside. 

Tearing his gaze from the window as he glances behind himself, Sam slowly walks back out, gaze intent on the door. 

_"If't yer brother ever comes, we'll fin' ya, perty boy."_

_"It'll be worse fer ya then, dats a guarantee."_

_Maybe we'll git dat brother o'yers too."_

Sam swallows hard as he stares at the door, waiting. 

It doesn't dawn on Sam that the men who had him don't know his name. 

The fact that it was his brother's voice also doesn't register. 

Back pressed against the wall behind him, Sam slowly raises his gun as he sees the door knob turning. 

Reaching the door, Dean tries to open it, swearing softly under his breath when he finds it locked. 

_Sonuva…_

Dean pauses in his movements, eyes widening with the memory that he has a key. 

Quickly patting himself down, Dean finds the key tucked in the inside folds of his leather, making him grin wide in triumph as he pulls it out, shoving it into the lock and turning the handle.

*

Sam's breaths quicken with his fear as the door starts to open, his gaze laser focused on it, gun held out before him, finger slowly pulling back on the trigger. 

As soon as Dean gets the door open, his gaze falls on Sam standing there in front of him. 

A shot rang out, the bullet ricocheting past Dean's shoulder, making wood splinter and rain down on his arm as Dean flinches, cringing away, head turned to the side, buried against the crook of his opposite arm. 

_SonuvaBITCH!_

Sam's eyes widen as he realizes just who he shot at. 

_Dean…_

Hand trembling, Sam lowers the gun before it slips from numb fingers falling onto the floor with a loud thud. 

Dean slowly pulls his head up, jade orbs finding and locking on hazel, before he tears them away to look over his shoulder at the ruined wood. 

Looking back at Sam, Dean gives a small nod, swallowing hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. 

"Still mad, huh?" Dean asks, trying to joke his way through his nervousness. 

His gaze darts to the gun on the floor, then back up to Sam's face as he licks his lips. 

"Dean?" Sam asks, unable to believe it, even as he stares at his brother.

Dean gave a nod, swallowing hard. 

"Yeah, Sammy, s'me." Dean shakes his head, his gaze still on Sam's face, even as tears stung his eyes. "God, I've missed you. 

Sam swallows, his eyes stinging with tears, filling with them, vision blurring as he looks at his brother. 

Moving on legs that feel made of lead, Sam pulls away from the wall, his entire body trembling.

Dean takes a step, then another, closing the distance between them. 

At once, both men throw their arms around each other, hugging tightly, like they never wanted to let go. 

Dean takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he held onto Sam, breathing in his scent. 

Sam squeezes his eyes closed against tears before opening them to blink away the moisture, hugging his brother tighter, holding onto him for all he's worth. 

"Don't leave me." Sam whispers. 

"Never again, baby." Dean answers softly, "never again."

Heads turn, Sam turning his face against Dean's neck, Dean turning his face against Sam's as they cling to one another, to the only thing that really matters, has ever mattered. 

Each other.

**_“Some say love it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed…”_ **

Dean slowly pulls his head back, so that he can look at Sam and Sam slowly raised his head.

Tear filled hazel gazing into tear filled green. 

"Ya missed." Dean tells him softly, lips quirking into a small smile. 

Sam gives a choked chuckling, nodding, "Yeah, I did."

Dean chuckles with him, glancing over his shoulder at the small crescent moon area of damaged wall and door frame before looking back at Sam. 

"I think ya killed the door frame though." he allows with a small shrug of one shoulder.

Sam's eyes dart away from Dean's face to glace at the door as he bites his lip, nodding before his gaze darts back to his brother.

"Missed you so much." Sam tells him softly.

**_“…Some say love it is a hunger, An endless, aching need. I say love it is a flower, And you it’s only seed…”_ **

Dean's lips quirk slightly, "I can tell." 

Sam's own lips quirk a little before he hangs his head, dragging in a ragged breath.

Jade orbs search his brother's face before Sam hangs his head.

Dean notices for the first time the way Sam is trembling slightly and holds him a little tighter. 

"You okay, baby?" Dean asks softly.

Lifting his head Sam gives a small nod, brows furrowing, "Yeah, I jus' -I thought..." he sighs softly, "Nothin'." he amends, shaking his head.

Dean pulls him in closer, "I missed you too, Sammy. God, I missed you." he tells him on a soft sigh of breath before turning his head, nose against Sam's neck once more, breathing in his scent.

**_“…It’s the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It’s the dream afraid of waking, That never takes the chance…”_ **

Pulling his head up Dean remembers all the things that he was going to to say, feels he should say, wants to say. 

"Sam, I - I'm sorry," jade orbs search hazel, "about before, about everything." he swallows hard, "And if you'll forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my life -"

"It's okay, Dean," Sam interrupts with a nod, "I'm sorry too."

Dean shifts his weight, "No, now lemme finish."

Sam shakes his head, "You don't have to."

"Yeah, but, I - I want to." Dean tells him.

Sam gives another small shake of his head, lips pressed together. 

"No, don't. It wasn't just you. I didn't want you to go. I shouldn't have said the things I did, I -"

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean nearly growls with a huff. 

Sam's lips quirk upward slightly as he looks at his brother. 

"S'okay, Dean." he nods, "I know. I know." he tells him softly.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, feeling relieved that he really doesn't have to say all that syrupy sweet girly shit... as long as Sam really does know. 

**_“…It’s the one who won’t be taken, Who cannot seem to give and the soul afraid of dying, That never learns to live…”_ **

Sam smiles, nodding. "Yeah, I do. Me too." he tells him softly. 

Dean's lips quirk upward, jade green orbs searching his brother's face for the truth of his words.

"I don't ever wanna lose you Sam," Dean tells him, "I mean without you I'm..." Dean's hands clench fistfuls of Sam's tee at his back, holding onto him tighter as he grits his teeth. 

Sam nods, hazel orbs intent on jade. "Yeah, I know. Me too." Sam tells him softly, tears stinging his eyes. 

"This past year has been..." Dean presses his lips together, tearing his gaze away from Sam's as he shakes his head. 

**_“…And the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long. And you think that love is only, For the lucky and the strong…”_ **

He's not gonna say 'hell', Sam went through hell for a year, not him. 

This was nothing compared that, even with the pain he felt every day and night. 

Sam pulls a hand from around his brother, cupping the side of his face, making him look at him again. 

"Hell," he offers before giving a nod, "Yeah, I know, for me too."

Dean's brows furrow as he looks into his brother's face. "Yeah?"

Sam's lips curve into a slight soft smile. "Yeah."

**_“…Just remember in the winter, Far beneath the bitter snow, Lies the seed that with the sun’s love, In the spring, becomes a rose.” ~ The Rose, Leann Rimes_ **

Jade orbs search his brother's face, lips parting in almost shock. 

It was hell for Sam too?

Dean's heart swells and twists in his chest as he stares at his little brother, just before something inside him snaps. 

Reaching up to cup his brother's head in his hands, Dean growls low, "Mine," before slanting his mouth over his brothers hard, tongue thrusting between Sam's lips and into his mouth.

The momentum and force of the kiss sends Sam staggering backward, his back slamming into the wall behind him as his hands grip fistfuls of his brother's leather. 

Two pictures, of what Dean can't even remember, fall off their hooks, smashing onto the floor around them. 

Dean licks at the roof of Sam's mouth, the backs of his teeth, tangles his tongue with Sam's before starting to thrust his tongue in and out, tongue fucking his brother's mouth, all the while holding Sam's head where he wants it, how he wants it.

Sam moans deep in his throat, arching against his brother's body, clinging to him as Dean starts to thrust up against him.

Sam's hands release their grip on Dean's leather, moving up to shove the jacket off Dean''s shoulders roughly as he kisses Dean back, his tongue battling Dean's for dominance. 

**_“I am the Astro-Creep, a demolition style Hell American freak - yeah. I am the Crawling dead. A phantom in a box Shadow in your head say acid Suicide freedom of the blast, Read the fucker lies yeah. Scratch off the broken skin, Tear into my heart make me do it again yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah… More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human…”_ **

Dean's hands pull from Sam's head as he helps to shrug off his leather and over shirt, both crumpling to the floor at their feet. 

Their mouths remain locked together, tongues tangled, breaths panting out into one another's mouths as moans and groans tears from their throats. 

Sam's arms wrap back around Dean as the jacket and shirt fall from his form, pulling him in closer once more. 

Dean's arms slide in around Sam as they both half stagger step, half slid to the side away from the wall. 

They continue stepping back further until Sam's back hits that of the couch.

Lips remain crushed together, tongues tangled, teeth clanking, devouring one another's mouths. 

Hands run over each others back, down to their asses, cupping and squeezing, before sliding back up, fingertips digging into muscular flesh through their tees.

Dean reaches for the hem of Sam's tee, pushing it up, their lips tearing apart, each gasping in a breath through parted lips, like divers coming up for air. 

Dean pulls Sam's tee up over his head as soon as Sam lifts his arms, tossing it away. 

Sam's own hands tug and pull at Dean tee, pushing it up and over his head.

Both lean back in, mouth's crushing together as arms wrap back around one another, clinging, touching, feeling, mapping out one another's bodies as tongues tangle and battle, teeth knocking together. 

Moans, groans, grunts and mewls sound from deep in their throats. 

**_“…I am the jigsaw man, I turn the World around With a skeleton hand say, I am electric head a cannibal core, A television said - yeah. Do not victimize, Read the motherfucker, Psychoholic lies Into a psychic war, I tear my soul apart And I eat it some more yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah… More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human…”_ **

Arms, hands, slide up Sam's body, one hooking under his arm, the other hand tangling in the thick soft chestnut stands of hair at the back of his head.

Sam slowly gets pressed backward more and more as they kiss until his feet slip against waxed wood floors, tumbling over backward on to the couch, Dean going over with him, still holding, clinging. 

Bodies roll on soft cushions, bodies colliding with the coffee table, the legs of which snap and give under their combined weight, both landing on the floor, Sam flat on his back with a thud. 

Teeth hit, clanking together, bumping against lips painfully. 

Sam's eyes squeeze closed, a grunt of pain sounding in his throat swallowed up in the kiss. 

Dean tears his mouth from Sam's, breaths panting out as he looks down at him. 

"You okay?"

Sam swallows, nodding as he pants his breaths, chest rising and falling with each. "Mm, yeah." he nods again. "You?"

Dean nods to him, "Yeah." he answers breathlessly, before he leans back in, slanting his mouth, lips swollen and burning, over Sam's once more.

Lips still crushed to Sam's, Dean lifts up slightly, hands going to the fastenings of his, then Sam's jeans, nimble digits making quick work of the closures before he starts pushing and pulling the denim from both their bodies, one then the other.

Dean's mouth slides off Sam's to his jawline, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses back to his neck as he continues to push and pull at their jeans getting down as far as he can. 

Sam lifts his hips to help, his own hands reaching down to shove frantically at his jeans, feet kicking, toeing off his boots as Dean does the same. 

Two pair of hunting boots go sailing, sliding across the wood floor away from them.

Dean's mouth bites and licks, sucks at the sensitive skin of Sam's neck hard enough to bruise while his hands work in frenzied movements to get the material separating them out of the way. 

**_“…I am the ripper man, A locomotion mind, Love American style yeah, I am the nexus one. I want more life, Fucker I ain't done yet yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah… More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human, More Human Than Human.” ~ More Human Than Human, White Zombie_ **

Once Dean has his jeans down to his knees, he pulls back kneeling over Sam, walking backward on his knees as he takes hold of the waistband of his brother's jeans and boxers that are now down his thighs, pulling them the rest of the way off, then wiggling out of his own. 

Reaching down, Dean flings off his socks then grabs for Sam's tugging them from his feet, sending them flying across the room in the opposite direction before crawling back up his brother's body and lowering himself down, blanketing him.

Bare flesh against bare flesh, breaths panting out fanning one another's face as their gazes lock, jade clashing with slightly slanted hazel.

Sam's hands raise, sliding up his brother's sides as he gazes into the jade orbs before him. 

"I need you, Dean... want to know we're gonna be okay," he swallows, "want it to be like it was, before..." he doesn't finish the his sentence letting it trail off there. 

Before.

Before he was taken away. 

Before Dean totally fucked up. 

Before they were apart for yet another year. 

Before the pain. 

Before. 

Dean nods to him as he leans down, bracing himself on a forearm as his other hand cups Sam's cheek, slides down along his throat to to his chest, green eyes follow the movement of his hand before darting back up to lock with hazel once more. 

"Me too, baby. Me too." Dean tells him softly, "Love you so much."

"Love you too, Dean."

Leaning in, Dean slants his mouth over his brother's kissing him gently, tenderly, like he might break. 

A strong contrast to just a few moments before. 

Dean's hand continues to slide over his brother's body as Sam's hands slide over his, caressing, mapping out. 

Sam palms Dean's ass cheeks in both hands, presses him down against him as Sam arches, bucking upward against his brother, making their cocks slide together.

Low moans tear from both their throats, swallowed up in the kiss.

Dean's lips slip from Sam's leaving hot wet trails along his jawbone back to his neck as he licks and sucks at the skin. 

Sam moans softly, fingertips digging into the flesh of his brother's back, sliding down to his ass, holding onto him there as he continues to arch and thrust against his brother.

Dean thrusts steadily against Sam as his mouth moves over the flesh of his brother's neck and throat, nipping the tender flesh then licking away the sting, sucking hard enough to leave behind marking bruises. 

Marking Sam as his. 

Always his. 

Their hard aching cocks slide together, rubbing against one another, giving each other the sought after friction they both need.

**_“If I could have just a moment of you, Would I be wanting more? If I could have just a taste of you, Would I be addicted? If I could have just a touch of you, Could I tear myself away?…”_ **

Moans and soft groans break from their throats, breaths panting out, fanning passion heated flesh.

Dean's mouth makes heated trails down Sam's neck to his chest, tongue sliding against smooth skin before he nips softly at his brother's flesh, thrusting his hips against him. 

Sam arches, hands grasping at Dean, clinging, holding as he thrusts back against him, lips parted, breaths panting out, eyes passion glazed and unfocused.

Making his way down Sam's chest, Dean runs his tongue around a nipple, lapping at it and blowing softly, watching the small nub harden before nipping it gently with his teeth, sucking the hard bud into his mouth. 

Sam's body jerks slightly as he groans, fingertips digging into Dean's skin as he arches into the touch, the feel of his brother's mouth on him.

With a lick across the sensitive skin, Dean makes his way to it's twin doing the same to it before slowly working his way lower, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses, nips and licks across Sam's flesh as he backs further and further down his body.

Wrapping his hand around Sam's hard cock, Dean pumps him a few times as he looks up at Sam's flushed face, his lips parted, breaths panting, chest rising and falling with each. 

Unfocused, passion glazed eyes found passion filled jade and locked.

Dean's lips curve upward at the corners slightly as they gaze at one another. 

"Beautiful, Sammy," Dean whispers out before leaning his head down, dropping a soft kiss against Sam's muscled abs. 

Sliding back a bit more, Dean turns his attention to Sam's hard cock. 

So hard, his brother is so hard for him, the fact of it, makes Dean's own achingly hard cock surge and twitch. 

So fuckin' hot. 

Leaning down, Dean runs his tongue from base to the tip of Sam's dick, swirling his tongue around the crown, dipping it into the slit, licking away the precum pearling there. 

**_“…I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin, With no consequence. To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth, Swallow me…”_ **

Sam gasps in a breath, hips arching his cock toward the wet heat of his brother's mouth. 

"Oh God, Dean... please..." Sam moans, head rolling as he swallows, one hand going to Dean's head, digits tangling in the soft short strands.

Dean smiles as he glances up at Sam from under his brows before taking just the tip of his cock into his mouth, sucking hard, cheeks hallowing out. 

"Uuaagh!" Sam cries out, thrusting his hips as his grip in Dean's hair tightens, breaths panting hard, head rolling back and forth. "Oh God..."

**_“…If I could have just a breath of you, Would you, could you infect me? If I could have just a view of you, Would you leave your door ajar? If I could have just a part of you, Let me drink of your tides…”_ **

Releasing the suction he has on the tip of Sam's cock, Dean takes him deeper into his mouth, humming around his length, his hand stroking over his hard shaft. 

Sam thrusts his hips, fucking into his brother's hot wet mouth, moans and groans tearing from his throat as his hand fists in Dean's hair, his free hand running slowly over his own chest as he pants his breaths. 

Sam's eyes start to close, but he blinks them open, as his head rolls against the wood of the broken table under him, unable, unwilling to allow the darkness to creep in. 

Hissing in a breath through gritted teeth, Sam looks down at his brother, watches as his dick slides in and out from between Dean's soft full lips, making Sam's cock surge within his brother's mouth as he gulps in air, heat singing through his veins to pool low in his belly.

"Mm, no," Sam pants, "no, please, stop," he mumbles breathlessly, lifting his head to look down at his brother, "Dean, stop," he says as his hands move, pulling from Dean's hair, from his chest to reach for his brother, head shaking. 

Dean glances up at Sam's face, his words slowly sinking through the haze of lust clouding his mind and pulls his head back, letting Sam's hard cock fall from his lips. 

"Huh? Sammy, you okay?" Dean asks, rising up to lean over his brother, jade orbs searching his face. 

It hits Dean then that maybe what he was doing had triggered another memory, something horrible. 

Shaking his head, Dean swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing as he looks at his brother. 

"Sammy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

Sam frowns up at Dean before he slowly understands and quickly shakes his head. 

"No, no, it's not that," Sam retorts, swallowing hard, "I - I was gonna cum." 

Dean blinks at his brother like maybe the fall knocked something loose in that giant melon of his after all. 

"Uh, okay..." Dean's head tilts slightly, "And that's a bad thing?" he asks, quirking a brow.

Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, tearing his gaze away from his brothers, turning his head, jaw clenched, he pauses a few moments before turning back to look up at Dean. 

"I didn't want to. Not," Sam glances down then back up into his brother's face, "not yet."

Dean huffs out a breath and licks his still damp lips, red and swollen from kissing and sucking on his brother's cock. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean nods, "Okay, Sammy, sure."

Sam nods, "M'kay, just," Sam blew out a breath of air, "just gimme a second."

Dean nods, tearing his gaze away from Sam to look up, gaze darting about the room as he remains on all fours over his brother. 

Sam huffs softly, "That's not exactly what I meant."

Dean looks back down at his brother, "Well, if I don't look around, what did you want me to do, play connect the dots with your moles?"

Sam's eyes narrow as he frowns up at Dean, "Well, I'm definitely fine NOW." 

Dean grins down at him, "See? It worked," he tells him with a wink before pulling back onto his knees, sitting back on his heels once more. 

Sam huffs, raising a hand to his face, heel of his hand going to his eye to rub it only to have Dean lean in hooking his arms around his thighs, pulling his ass and lower back practically onto his lap. 

Sam jumps, his hand falling away from his face as he stares wide eyed at his brother. 

"What are you doing!?" 

Dean grins at him, "Put your legs over my shoulders."

"What?"

Dean sighs, "Just do it," he directs as he unwraps one arm to reach for one of Sam's legs. 

Watching his brother, like maybe he's finally lost his mind, Sam slowly raises one leg, then the other, hooking them over Dean's shoulders. 

Wrapping his arm back around Sam's thigh, Dean pulls him a little closer as he smiles, tearing his gaze from Sam's face to look down, his gaze sliding over his brother's hard cock, to his balls and lower to what he has now put within easy access to his mouth, his tightly puckered hole. 

"Awesome," Dean mumbles softly as he lowers his head, running his tongue over the puckered flesh. 

**_“…I would pray to be the rain that runs over and in your skin, With no consequence. To be the liquid in your glass that falls around your lips and mouth, Swallow me…”_ **


	15. Chapter 15

Reaching up with his other hand, Dean lays his hand, palm flat against the side of Sam's face, turning it to look at him as best he can. 

"S'okay, baby. S'jus me." he tells him softly, jade orbs searching his brother's face.

Sam nods, "I - I know." 

Dean returns the nod, stretching up to make their lips touch so he can kiss his brother, soft lips brushing soft lips.

"I love you, Sammy." 

Sam's heart swells as he nods, "Me too." he tells his brother, offering him a small smile. 

**_“…Peace in the struggle, To find peace. Comfort on the way, To comfort…”_ **

Dean nods, as he moves his hips, slowly pushing the blunt end of his cock into his brother's tightly puckered hole.

Sam grits his teeth as he sucks in a breath, head turning as his the fingertips of the hand against the floor curl like claws grasping for purchase. 

Lips parting, eyes wide, afraid to close them, Sam pants, pressing back against his brother. 

Dean tries to go in at a steady slow pace, but Sam's pressing back against him and his own bodies want to just slam balls deep into his brother's hot tight ass make him grit his teeth, head falling back as he pants, releasing his cock to quickly grip Sam's hip. 

"Slow down, Sammy. Easy, baby," Dean pants, pushing in a little farther. 

Sam shakes his head slowly, as he pants, head falling back, lips parted before he swallows hard. 

"Oh my God..." Sam mumbles breathlessly. 

"I think that's my line," Dean mumbles, pressing in further until he's balls deep inside his brother. 

Dean quickly wraps his arms around Sam, reaching up to turn Sam's head so he can look into his face. 

Sam's face is flushed, breaths panting, chest rising and falling heavy with each one, his brow is covered in sweat as is, it seems, the rest of him. 

His eyes are glazed, pupils lust blown, but he seems okay, except for one small thing to which Dean frowns as he looks at him. 

"Sammy, what is it? What's wrong?" Dean asks him. 

Sam gives a small shake of his head. 

Dean quirks a brow, "Okay, then why do you look like I just shoved a pickle up your ass?"

Sam's brows furrow as if he doesn't understand. 

Dean moves his hand from the side of his face, pointing at his own eyes, "Ya got the bug eyes thing goin' on." 

Sam swallows, licking his lips, "Oh, I -" he blinks a few times, pausing with his eyes squeezed closed a time or two, "I don't want to close my eyes. I - I can't." 

Jade orbs search his brother's face, jaw set as he thinks about that, finally giving a nod.

He figures if Sam looking as if he's in a state of suspended stunned shock helps him, then who is he to argue. 

He just hopes like hell that no dirty limericks come to mind over it... which... they do. 

Dean snickers softly, quickly biting his lip to hide it. 

"Sorry, I'm not laughing. I just," he snickers again, “You're making me think of Little Red Riding Hood.”

Sam huffs and sighs, "Great."

"Meh, the porn version anyway," Dean amends. 

Sam frowns up at him, "The what?"

Dean shrugs a shoulder, "Ya know, 'What a big nose you have Mr. Wolf',” Dean says making his voice girl like for the Riding Hood part, "'The better to smell you with, my drear,'" he says, voice deeper than he should _ever_ make it. 

"'Mr. Wolf, what big _eyes_ you have,'" Dean continues, changing his voice as each line calls for, "'The better to see you with, my dear.'"

"'Mr. Wolf, what a big…'" he wraps his hand around Sam's dick and grins.

Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, "Forget I asked." 

"'The better to…" Dean starts only to finish by pulling his hips back, pulling nearly out of Sam, then thrusting in deep, as his hand pumps Sam's cock. 

Sam groans, throwing his head back, lips parted, eyes wide.

Dean repeats the motion, pinning Sam against him with his arm as his hand slides over his oiled cock. 

"Dean..." Sam calls out to him, fear in his voice, though it's spoken softly. 

Sam's hand grasps for the hand Dean has under him. 

"Shshsh, s'me, jus' me." Dean tells him softly, leaning in to bury his face against his brother's sweat damp neck, kissing him softly there as he looks up over his brows at the death grip Sam has on his hand and laces their fingers together. 

**_“…And if I shed a tear I won’t cage it, I won’t fear love, And if I feel a rage I won’t deny it, I won’t fear love, I won’t fear love, I won’t fear love.” ~ Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, Sarah Mclachlan_**

Dean's thrusts find a slow easy rhythm, his hand matching it as he whispers softly to Sam, calming him, easing his fear.

"Jus' don't let go," Sam rasps breathlessly, squeezing Dean's hand tighter, breaths panting out. 

Dean can feel his brother's heart beating fast and hard against his chest, can feel the small tremors that travel through his body and while he'd like to think it was just how amazing it was when they were together, but he knows that there's more than that going on here, knows that even with all the bravado his brother's scared half out of his mind. 

"Not lettin' go, Sammy. I gotcha, always gotcha," Dean softly assures as he trails licks and nips over the side and back of Sam's neck.

Sam moans, thrusting his cock harder into his brother's fist, pushing his ass back against him.

"Mm, more... harder..." Sam pants, fingertips nearly digging into the skin of Dean's hand his holding it so tightly, knuckles turning white, hand shaking, trembling in his brother's arms.

Dean pulls his head up, looking at his brother's profile, his long bangs wet with sweat clinging to his forehead, hanging down half in his face, sweat dripping off the end of his nose onto the floor, face flushed a deep crimson, eyes glazed and wide, lips parted, breaths panting. 

"You sure, Sammy?" Dean asks, brows furrowed. 

Sam nods, thrusting and pushing back against him, "Mm, God _yes_!" Sam growls loudly. 

Normally Sam wouldn't have to have told him twice, now he definitely didn't have to say it again. 

Dean starts thrusting harder, his hand working his cock faster, his own moans and groans working out of him now that he isn't simply maintaining.

Fuck yeah, it felt good, being buried deep in Sam's tight hot ass, feels like heaven, but as slow as he had been going there was no way he was going to cum before. 

Now as Sam thrusts and bucks, grinds and grounds himself back against him, writhing in his arms, Dean's not too sure how long he is gonna last. 

_Holy fuck!_

Dean thrusts hard into his brother, his breaths panting against Sam's skin, his hand sliding fast over Sam's cock, lips against Sam's shoulder.

Slowly Sam starts to roll, by the sheer momentum of their movements alone. 

His arms move, spreading to brace himself against the floor, his hand slipping from Dean's in the process. 

Dean moves with him, his thrusts, uninterrupted by the change of position nor is the movement of his hand on his brother's cock. 

One thing is definite, the position allows for easier thrusting and movement.

Seeings as Sam doesn't seem to mind it as he thrusts his cock into his brother's fist, pushing back against his dick in is ass, Dean doesn't object. 

The sound of their mingled moans and groans, pants and grunts fill the air around them, the only sounds in the silent cabin.

Dean leans his head down, his mouth against Sam's throat, kissing and licking his salty skin. 

"So good, baby. Feels so good." Dean tells him softly.

Sam nods, head hanging as he pants, rocking between his brother's fist and his cock, moans and groans breaking from his throat. 

His arms tremble as he holds himself up, but it doesn't look like anything, doesn't seem like anything is wrong, just weak arms maybe, or sensations that are just too good making muscles quiver.

Sam pulls his head up, blinking away the sweat from his eyes as it rolls down his forehead, lips parted, face flushed. 

Heat spirals though Sam's body, pooling in his groin.

Dean's free hand runs along Sam's side, up into his sweat damp hair, smoothing it back as he trails open mouthed kisses along Sam's cheek. 

"Kiss me, Sammy." Dean whispers breathlessly. 

Sam turns his head toward Dean's, lips parting in invitation, moaning as their mouths meet in a sloppy miss hit kiss, tongues tangling inside and outside of their mouths. 

Heat pools low in Dean's belly, his thrusts becoming more erratic, the rhythm of his hand on Sam's cock faster, harder, squeezing him. 

Sam groans as they kiss, feeling his balls draw up, the sound swallowed up in his brother's mouth.

It's then that he hears it in his mind, as clear as if he's right there, as if it's happening all over again, _"Cum, pretty boy, it's okay. You deserve it, been so good.”_ Skinny's voice. 

"Cum for me, baby." Dean tells him as their lips part. 

Sam's body shakes, muscles tensing, teeth clenched together, face a deep crimson, the tendon in his neck standing out as he throws is head back. 

"Noooo!" Sam screams, just before the first ribbon of cum shoots from his cock, coating his brother's fist, dripping onto the wood under him. 

As Sam cums, his muscles clamping around Dean's cock, squeezing him, Dean's own muscles lock, head falling back as he cums hard and hot, filling his brother's ass with his spunk, his brother's name a ragged cry falling from his lips. 

As their orgasms subside, Sam slowly crumpling onto the floor, body trembling, Dean quickly releases his brother's cock, wrapping his arms around Sam as he goes down to the floor with him. 

"Sam? Baby?" Dean says softly, smoothing back his hair from his face, trying to see him.

"Sammy, look at me." Dean tells him, fear for his brother clear in his voice. 

Sam shakes his head, sniffling softly. 

Dean can see the tear roll down his face, drip off the end of his nose onto the floor. 

Dean sighs, gritting his teeth.

_Sonuva…_

"Sammy, I'm sorry, baby. I knew we shouldn't have done this. I'm so sorry." Dean tells Sam shaking his head, his heart twisting. 

Sam shakes his head, "I-" he swallows hard, "I couldn't see you." he says softly, "I closed my eyes and I couldn't see you." 

Dean lets out a breath, lifting up as he pulls Sam over onto his back. 

"God, Sam, I…" Dean murmurs worriedly, shaking his head, not knowing what to say. 

Lips pressed together, nostrils flaring, Sam shakes his head again. 

"S'okay, I'm okay," he sniffles softly, "I need to get over this, I just couldn't see you." 

"Next time, I need to keep my eyes open," Sam said, but Dean's shaking his head.

He's not so sure there should be a 'next time', at least not for a _long time_.

Sam nods, "Yeah, it'll be better. We'll use a mirror."

Dean's eyes widen slightly, "A mirror?"

Sam's lips quirk up slightly at the corners as he nods, "Yeah, a mirror."

Dean frowns, nodding in appreciation of that idea, though he still isn't too sure if Sam should even try this again. 

"It's what I used when I jerked off." Sam tells him and Dean nearly swallows his tongue. 

"Okay, now _that_ , you gotta show me," responds Dean excitedly, making Sam chuckle.

Slowly Dean lowers himself onto Sam fully, wrapping his arms around him tightly as he leans his head down, kissing Sam's neck, before rolling and pulling Sam in next to him. 

Both lay gazing up at the ceiling in silence for a long moment. 

"I could really go for some fried chicken." Dean mumbles as he sniffs the air. 

Sam chuckles and rolls his eyes.

Dean glances over at him, a grin on his face. 

"What? You smell like fried chicken. Makin' me hungry."

"You're always hungry," Sam mumbles. 

"Yeah, but you're making it worse." Dean tells him, looking back up at the ceiling. 

Sam frowns, reaching down as he lifts his ass, rolling slightly onto his side, "I think I got a splinter."

Dean looks over at him, chuckling.

[ ](http://www.glitter-graphics.com)  
[](http://www.glitter-works.org)

Sam continued to heal, and soon Dean actually allowed him to take the pillow out from under his ass when he rode in the Impala.

A few weeks after that Dean let Sam come with him on a new hunt... after Sam had thrown a fit, huffing and pouting, brooding and not talking for hours before hand, of course. 

It had been an easy salt and burn case, so Sam hadn't seen the problem with it. 

Of course, when the ghost had nearly choked the life out of Sam, Dean wasn't so sure who deserved to be hit with the iron pipe more. 

The ghost or his stubborn ass brother for not listening to him. 

Luckily love had won out over the want to beat sense into his brother's head, and Dean had swung the pipe, sending the ghost away long enough for them to salt and burn the remains, though he did have a few choice words that he shared with Sam as they did it. 

Soon they started to fall into their old routine and something about it, the normality of it, seemed to help Sam even more. 

He still didn't leave the motel room to get coffee in his sweats anymore, in fact he didn't leave the motel room at all without Dean. 

**_“No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I'm here with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you…”_ **

And he didn't walk over to coffee stands while Dean waited at the Impala, Dean always followed, more because he was just that worried about Sammy than the silent pleading looks his brother shot him. 

Though they were enough to twist Dean's heart.

**_“…Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime... Say you need me with you now and always... Promise me that all you say is true that's all I ask of you…”_ **

Sam didn't bid strangers 'Good Morning' as he passed them anymore either, but instead kept his head down, peering out from under his long bangs, his shoulders slightly hunched. 

When they went to some little country restaurant and the bus boy looked over toward them, speaking to someone behind them, Sam nearly had a panic attack sitting there, hearing the distinct backwoods southern drawl. 

There had been a terrified look in his hazel eyes as they widened, teeth gritting together, his gaze glued to Dean, while he trembled all over so hard that the menu he held in his hands shook. 

There were still huge changes in Sam that Dean wasn't too sure would ever go away, the very thought of which made Dean's chest ache as he watched his brother. 

**_“…Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, You're safe, No one will find you, your fears are far behind you…”_ **

Even though he was better, he was still half the person he use to be, pulling inside himself each time they walked out the motel room door.

But the changes didn't stop there. 

At night, where Sam use to take up most of the bed, mumbling in his sleep about Dean crowding him, he huddled close to Dean, gripping him tightly. 

**_“…All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me…_ **

This change had been a welcome one, until the night Dean had got up to take a piss and Sam had woke screaming for him.

Dean had raced back into the room to find his brother sitting up in the middle of the bed covered in sweat, eyes wide, breathing labored as he looked at Dean as if he'd just shot him. 

"You left me," had been what Sam had mumbled over and over until Dean had finally gotten him calmed and back to sleep. 

**_“…Then say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime, let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here, beside you... anywhere you go, let me go too, that's all I ask of you…”_ **

Dean wasn't too sure how he had managed a year without him, but then he figured knowing that the house had been full of people if he needed them, had helped Sam. 

Now, it was just the two of them again and it was obvious Sam needed him, needed to not ever feel 'alone'.

**_“…Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... say the word and I will follow you... Share each day with me, each night, each morning... Say you love me…”_ **

Dean didn't mind that Sam needed him, what bothered him was the fact that Sam, his Sam, was never like this before. 

It was obvious that a part of Sam had been destroyed that year he was gone. 

That year he had suffered alone. 

And Dean had no idea if it would ever completely come back.

When they made love, Sam would cling to him, always insisting on being able to see him, no matter what else, he had to be able to see Dean. 

Even then, many times there were tears. 

Tears that Sam would try to hide, turning his head or body away from Dean, burying his face against his brother's neck. 

Sam didn't think that Dean saw, thought he didn't know, Dean would always see, always know, every single time. 

Dean would find the small area on the pillow case that had been wet with Sam's tears, or hear him sniffle softly.

Even the times that Sam tried to joke playfully to hide it. 

Dean still knew. 

**_“…You know I do... …Love me - that's all I ask of you, Anywhere you go let me go too, Love me - that's all I ask of you.” ~ All I Ask Of You, Phantom of the Opera_ **

* * *

[Two Weeks before Christmas - Two Years Since That Fateful Night]

Dean pulls the Impala to a stop in the parking lot of a large church, services seem to be going on inside so they're going to have to wait to go in and speak to the Preacher. 

Snow is pushed into knee high piles around the lot, to clear it for cars to be able to park and move about easier. 

Christmas lights shine from neighboring houses off in the distance, twinkle against the sparkling snow. 

The stained glass church windows, brightly lit against the darkness add to the festive feel. 

Sam turns his head, looking out the side window.

He's been long faced, quiet and brooding all day and it's not a hard guess to know why. 

Tonight is the anniversary of that night. 

"I hate Christmas." Sam mumbles softly, frowning even more as he slides down in his seat, hands shoved into the pockets of his brown jacket.

Dean watches Sam silently, like he has been the entire day, trying not to crowd him but be there if he wants him. 

It's a fine line like walking a tight rope and Dean Winchester is definitely no acrobatic, but he thinks he's been doin' okay so far. 

A gently squeeze here, a kiss there, otherwise, he's just let Sam go. 

Let him be Sam and try to work this shit out in his own head. 

He'd brought up the Christmas when he was gone, and Sam had only clammed up more, so Dean hadn't pushed. 

Again, maybe a house full of people, maybe just being somewhere Sam felt safe had been the difference. 

Now they were out on the road, business as usual, it was the furthest thing from the safety of that cabin five states back that you could get. 

Sure, they were safe in their motel room when they got one, but right now, they weren't in a room, hadn't been in one in two days, trying to make it here, to this hunt.

This hunt that began, like that one, at a church, two weeks before Christmas, snow blanketing the cold earth. 

It was too much, too much like that night and Dean wasn't at all sure that Sam was going to be able to handle it. 

Reaching out slowly, Dean laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, noting the way he flinched, then tried to cover it by fidgeting. 

"Hey, whadda ya say we go grab a seat?" Dean asks, cocking his head sideways at the church playground, picnic tables dotting here and there around the deserted play area. 

Sam turns his head, jaw held at a stubborn angle, muscle twitching as he stares out the windshield for a long moment in silence. 

Fear battles with his stubborn side as he looks out at the darkness that seems to be looking right back at him. 

Sam licks his lips, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

"Um, yeah, okay." Sam mumbles out with a nod, turning his gaze to Dean, "Stay," he swallows, biting his lip, "stay with me?"

Dean gives a nod, leaning in and brushing his lips over Sam's. 

"Always," he tells him softly as he slowly pulls back.

Sam offers Dean a small smile, a very _fake_ , small smile, but Dean knows the poor kid is trying his damnedest. 

Hell, if it had been him, he probably would have told Sam it was their night off, gotten wasted and passed out in the bathtub or some damn thing. 

But not Sam, not only was he stone cold sober, he had insisted they work, not take the night off, not take it easy and get a room. 

Had told Dean that they needed to do their job, that he was fine, that more people weren't going to get hurt because he was hiding from shadows. 

Dean wanted to argue that these people weren't getting hurt the same way that Sam had been, but he knew what Sam meant. 

They'd argued a little over it, finally with Dean giving in.

Dean's gaze runs over his brother as he reaches for the car door handle. 

"I love you." Dean tells him softly. 

Sam gives a small smile and a nod, "Love you too."

Tearing his gaze from Sam's, Dean opens the door and slides from behind the wheel. 

Sam turns his head staring again out at the semi darkened playground, lit only by a few lanterns here and there. 

It's okay, he's safe. 

Dean killed those men.

They weren't even anywhere near that town. 

This was just a night like any other. 

These are the things that Sam tells himself over and over again for courage. 

With a heavy sigh, Sam tears is gaze away, looking down at the door handle. 

Dean closes the car door and frowns, not seeing Sam across the Impala's roof. 

_He shouldn't fuckin' be out here tonight._

Face set in determined lines, Dean starts around the car intent on telling Sam that they'd come back in the morning, that they don't need to do this now. 

Sam slowly reaches for the door handle, wrapping long fingers around it, staring at it as though it might bite him at any moment. 

Blowing out a hot breath, Sam pulls the handle, opening the door and unfolds his long frame as he steps out into the cold night air, nearly colliding with Dean. 

"Why don't we just call it a night, Sam?" Dean suggests, "We can come back in the morning and -"

Dean's words fell away as he watches Sam shake his head, jaw clenched. 

"No, I'm okay," Sam tells him with a nod as he closes the car door, "really."

Dean sighs, muscle in his jaw twitching as he looks at his brother. 

Finally, he nods, knowing he isn't going to win this anyway.

Though he has to wonder if Sam is shaking from cold or fear.

Dean takes a small step closer to his brother so their standing toe to toe, his arm slinking around Sam, sliding slowly up his back as he gazes into his eyes.

Pulling is hand from Sam's back, Dean brushes his brother's long bangs from his forehead, out of his eyes and leans in brushing is lips over Sam's. 

"Come on, Eeyore, I'll pin your tail later," Dean gently teases, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls his head back and runs a hand slowly running down Sam's back, slapping him lightly there as he winks at him.

Sam gives a huffed chuckle, hanging his head. 

Dean drags his thumb over his bottom lip as he eyes his brother, letting his other arm fall from his back as he steps around him.

"I'll let you blind fold me too if you want," Dean calls over his shoulder as he heads toward the playground, "you can even spin me around." 

Sam lifts his head, laughing at the image his mind has conjured up of a naked, blindfolded, dizzy Dean trying to stagger to the bed and find him. 

Shaking his head as his laughter slowly dies away, Sam stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets, his broody frown slowly sliding back in place as he looks down, narrowing his eyes at the snow, following after his brother. 

_I hate Christmas._

*

Dean sits, straddling the bench seat of one of the picnic tables, Sam next to him, facing away from the table, leaning against it, staring off as Dean stares at him. 

Sure, he knows Sam is more than likely quite aware that he is staring, but he just can't seem to help it, watching as his brother fidgets nervously. 

"Sam," Dean starts.

Sam tears his gaze away from whatever had him transfixed, probably a whole lot of nothing, turning his head to look over at him. 

"I'm fine," Sam blurts out, pressing his lips together as his lips curve downward, head nodding. "Yeah, m'good."

Dean feels like yelling, 'bullshit', in fact, it's on the tip of his tongue to say it, but he swallows it down, gritting his teeth as he tears his gaze away from Sam to look around them with a sigh.

As Dean turns his head back the opposite direction he catches a glimpse of his brother from the corner of his eye. 

Sam's shoulders are hunched, nearly folding in on himself even as he leans his back against the picnic tables top, his head is hanging slightly, peering out from under long bangs as he bits and worries at his bottom lip. 

He looks for all the world like he use to after a nightmare, when they were kids, when life was... well, it sure as hell wasn't _'better'_ , but it was somewhat simpler. 

And Sam hadn't gone through hell. 

Dean hadn't totally fucked up and not found him for a year. 

Back then all it took was him telling his brother to crawl up into his bed with him and Sam would relax, sighing as he closed his eyes, huddled up against him.

Sliding slightly closer to his brother, Dean reaches a hand out, placing it up under Sam's jacket, against his back, feeling the warmth of his brother's body radiate against his cold palm. 

Sam nearly jumps out of his skin at the contact, eyes widening as he leans forward quickly a small startled sound escaping him. 

"Whoa, whoa. Sammy, s'okay. It’s okay, it's me," Dean tells him, reaching for Sam with his other hand, the first still pressed reassuringly against his back.

Sam's breaths are panting out of him with fear as he looks at Dean with wide eyes and nods. 

He swallows hard, hands in his pockets curling into tight fists. 

"Yeah, I - I'm okay," Sam assures though his anxiety is clear. 

Dean eyes his brother, brow quirking. 

If that was 'ok' he'd hate to see 'not ok', but he doesn't argue. 

Movement behind Sam catches Dean's eye, it seems that church is finally over, parishioners are starting to slowly walk from the front door of the church, making their way to their cars. 

Jade orbs dart back to his brother's face as Dean licks his lips offering Sam a slight soft smile, nodding toward the church. 

"Looks like we'll be able to get this over with soon." 

Sam turns his head, twisting around to look back over his shoulder toward the church, watching as families make their way out, dressed in their holiday best, nearly a sea of red and green as they exit the church.

Tearing his gaze away, Sam looks back at his brother and nods. 

"Yeah, good." 

"Hi!" the small voice suddenly so close without either of them having seen or heard anyone approach, makes Sam jump as he turns back quickly, his gaze lowered to the little girl that stands there before them. 

Her hair is long and blond, curling down her back, her clothes are a Christmas red jumper dress, a glittery white turtle neck underneath, white stockings adorn her youthful chubby legs, her feet encased in tiny black dress shoes with perfect buckles. 

Her eyes are nearly animation large and blue as the sky on a cloudless day, long dark eyelashes frame them, it's something no one can help but notice as they seem to take up most of her face, those eyes. 

Her gaze darts from Sam to Dean and back as they both sit stupidly, looking at her like she's the big bad bogeyman.

Dean seems to be the one to find his voice first as he clears his throat, "Uh, hi," he frowns, gaze darting toward the church then back to the little girl. "Where, uh, where'd you come from?"

The child frowns in confusion at him, "My house. Well," she turns at the waist, one tiny hand raised to point back toward the church, "then we went to church," she turns back, "but it's over now. Mommy is talking with Pastor Smith, so I came outside to play."

Dean nods to her, feeling Sam slide a little closer to him as he mumbles out a soft, "Hi." 

It's a small movement, more of a shifting, but it doesn't go unnoticed, at least not by Dean. 

Especially with how stiff Sam is sitting, like the next strong wind might just break him in half. 

Holly Hobbie however seems to have become fascinated with her own shoes for the moment. 

Dean's hand slides along Sam's back, causing him to look over at him, jaw clenched, lips pressed firmly together.

 _'You okay?'_ , it's the unspoken question in the depths of Dean's jade orbs as he looks into slightly slanted hazel. 

Sam gives a curt nod, tearing his gaze away to look back at the little girl. 

The child looks up at them both, smiling at them, large sapphire eyes darting from one to the other. 

"My name's Christy," she tells them. 

Nodding to her, Dean offering a small smile. "Okay, Christy. Nice meeting you."

Sam mutely nods to her, lips still pressed together. 

Dean waits expectantly for her to walk away now, but apparently she is waiting expectantly for _them_ to say something. 

Dean glances at Sam, who is still just looking at the child like she might suddenly morph into some kind of monster and eat them both. 

"Uh, I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam," Dean tells her, his hand on Sam's back steadily rubbing small circles, where no one can see. 

Christy nods, grinning wide, showing rows of tiny teeth, before she lifts a hand, shoving a thumb into her mouth, sucking it as she looks at them, twisting back and forth at the waist.

Realizing Christy the Christmas elf was obviously not going to just wonder away not that she thought she had found two knuckleheads that would talk to her, Dean decides to try this from another angle. 

"Where's your father at Christy?" Dean asks her, glancing toward the church before his gaze falls back on the girl once more. 

Christy shrugs a shoulder before pulling her thumb from her mouth, "Daddy's away, he had to go to work. Fighting bad men." she tells them nodding to her own words as she steps closer.

"He's a soldier," her gaze darts to Sam, "it's why Mommy is talking to Pastor Smith. Cause she thinks he might get hurt."

Her gaze darts back to Dean then as she shifts her weight.

Dean shifts on the seat as he looks at the child, "Yeah, well, sometimes people get hurt, but I'm sure he's gonna try his best to be okay." Dean nods, "Come home safe to you and your Mom." 

Christy shakes her head adamantly, "No, Mommy says he has to stop his Kama - keezie stuff." she tells him with a shrug of her shoulders as she reaches out touch Dean's pendant with one small finger. 

Dean's gaze drops to his chest, the pendent that shows through were he has left his leather open. 

"Maybe your Dad doesn't really do those kinda of things like she thinks," Sam speaks up, glancing over at Dean, their eyes meeting for a brief moment as Dean raises his head, "maybe he's just looking out for the other soldiers." 

Christy looks from Dean to Sam then shrugs her shoulders, "I just like when he's home," she tells them, her finger falling away from Dean's pendent. "He plays on with me. Comes to my tea parties and pushes me on the swings." she tells them smiling. 

Dean and Sam both nod, sad smiles on their faces. 

"That - that's really nice, Christy," Sam murmurs softly. 

She nods her agreement as large blue eyes stare at Sam. 

Tearing her gaze from him, she looks over at Dean, "You have freckles. The little boy who lives next to us has freckles," she tells him, frowning, "but your hair isn't red. His is red."

Dean clears his throat as Sam hangs his head, fighting to hide the smile, the chuckle that wants to work out of him.

"I DO. NOT. have freckles," Dean curtly informs her.

Christy quirks a small blond brow as she looks at him. 

"Then when you painted your room, you didn't do a good job in the bath afterward." 

Sam can't hold it in anymore and a snicker escapes, drawing Christy's attention to him as she grins wide, pleased by the attention she is being shown.

Looking over at his brother, Dean can't seem to hold his stern look too well with Sam's chuckle, feeling him relax. 

Dean's lips curve upward slightly, even though he makes sure to narrow his eyes at Christy, just because. 

Reaching out, Christy grabs a tiny handful of material from the sleeve of Sam's jacket.

"Will you push me on the swings?" she asks him. 

Sam tears his gaze from her face, the laughter in his eyes, on his face, slowly melting away as he looks down at her hand on his sleeve.

"Um, I -" Sam starts, lifting his head and turning it, looking over at the swing set that suddenly seems to be so far away.

"Aw, please," Christy pleads, "your brother won't leave you." she tells him, glancing at Dean, before returning her gaze to Sam, who is still staring off at the swings. 

"If he does, Mommy and I can give you a ride home. My Mommy is always helping people like that, she won't mind. Pleeease..." Christy continues on.

Dean sees Sam swallow hard, sees the nearly panicked look on his face in his profile as he stares off toward the playground. 

Sam wants to say yes, after all, it's right there. It's not that far away, not really. 

He knows he shouldn't feel like suddenly the earth is closing in around him, his breaths shouldn't be coming faster and his palms shouldn't be starting to sweat, but they are. 

Sam pulls his hands from his pockets, wiping them on his jean clad thighs. 

As he glances down at his brother's hands, he can see how they tremble slightly as he rubs them up and down the font of his jeans. 

Tearing his gaze away from that, Dean looks up at Christy who now has both of her hands hooked around Sam's arm, bouncing up and down like a jumping bean. 

"Look, Christy, I'm sorry," Dean starts, as he leans forward, reaching out tapping, her shoulder to gain her attention. 

Dean shakes his head, "Sam can't push you on the swings, I'm," Dean sighs, pressing his lips together, shadows of pain and heartbreak, of sadness flashing in the depths of his jade eyes, "I'm sorry." he tells her softly, head shaking. "He can't."

Christy releases Sam's arm, frowning as she turns to Dean, "Why? Did he get in trouble?" 

Dean gives a humorless chuckle as he looks down then back up at her, "Somethin' like that."

Sam continues to stare off at the swings, he can hear Dean and Christy talking but their words are just white noise in the background as he tries to talk himself out of this irrational fear. 

He knows if he is ever going to be even half the person he use to be, he can't let this win over him. 

Knows that it's just another night, just like any other. 

That the swings really aren't that far away, that Dean could be over there in a heartbeat if he needed him. 

Sure, since nearly shooting him, Dean hasn't been too thrilled about letting him have his gun back, but he has it now, so it wouldn't even be like he was unarmed. 

Not that it had helped a lot last time. 

Sam bites his lip as he takes a deep breath, giving a curt nod, jaw set in determined lines, muscle twitching. 

**_“I believe the children are our are future, Teach them well and let them lead the way, Show them all the beauty they possess inside, Give them a sense of pride to make it easier. Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be. Everybody searching for a hero People need someone to look up to, I never found anyone who fulfill my needs, A lonely place to be, So I learned to depend on me…”_ **

Turning his head, he looks back at Dean and Christy who are apparently in the middle of a heated argument over who has the better songs, Led Zeppelin or Barney. 

"I can do it." Sam blurts out, his gaze going from Dean's face down to Christy's as they both suddenly fall silent in the middle of their argument, staring at him.

Christy's lips slowly curve into a smile that is soon full blow and bigger than any smile has a right to be. 

She then lets out a shriek that is so loud and high pitched that there is no doubt dogs in China can hear it, and are likely barking just as the dogs in the nearby neighborhood are. 

Dean's not totally sure he isn't bleeding from his eardrums now as he frowns in almost pain, looking from Christy to his brother and back. 

Reaching out, Christy grabs Sam's hand so fast that the movement is a near blur. 

She's tugging him to his feet as she screeches excitedly, bouncing up and down with enough energy, that if someone could harness it, they could light the entire city of Atlanta. 

"Come on! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" she tells Sam excitedly. 

Dean reaches out, grabbing a handful of Sam's jacket, "Sam, you sure?" Dean asks him, jade orbs searching his face. 

Sam gives a small nod, before he is being yanked behind Christy as she starts heading off at a full out run toward the swings, a death grip on Sam's hand. 

**_“…I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadows, If I fail, if I succeed, At least I'll live as I believe, No matter what they take from me, They can't take away my dignity…”_ **

She's running so hard that Sam actually has to walk fast as he is dragged behind her, in order to keep up with her.

Dean steps around the picnic table, leaning back against it as he watches the two of them, one hand reaching back to the gun at his waistband, just to check, to reassure himself, before he crosses his arms over his chest, his legs at the ankles as he stands there, head tilting to the side, brow quirked. 

As the reach the swings, Christy abruptly releases Sam's hand, making him stumble step to a stop as he watches her walk over to a swing, turning to sit down on the plastic and rubber seat, grasping the chains in her tiny hands, a wide smile on her face. 

"Okay, get behind me, lemme get ready." she instructs him. 

Sam gives her a small smile and nods, walking around the swing set to stand behind her, looking back toward Dean, giving him a small nod as their gazes lock. 

"Okay, I'm ready, push me." Christy calls out. 

Sam tears his gaze from Dean, stepping up to Christy, reaching out he wraps his hands around the chains just above her hands.

That's when Sam freezes. 

He had been fine before that, even the distance hadn't seemed to far after he had taken the steps to do it, had taken that leap of faith, in himself. 

But now, as his hands wrap around cold metal, Sam's thrown right back there, into the darkness, when all he had to hold onto were chains. 

Cold harsh metal biting into his hands, cutting his skin, tearing flesh and making him bleed as his body was violated over and over, cut and beaten, abused so horribly. 

Tears form in Sam's eyes as he just stands there, trembling gulping in breaths of air. 

Dean's eyes widen as he watches his brother. 

_Shit Sonuva…_

"Sammy," Dean calls to him as he pulls away from the table, running toward his brother. 

Christy frowns when they don't move, well, except for that strange shaking that Sam seems to be doing to the swings. 

Tilting her head back, Christy leans back so she can see up into Sam's face. 

"Are you scared?" she asks him softly. 

Sam doesn't blink, doesn't look away from the nothing he's staring at as tears slide down his cheeks.

"Yeah," he croaks out softly. 

Christy releases the chains with one hand and reaches up her tiny hand cupping Sam's face. 

Dean stagger steps to a halt a few feet away watching Christy and his brother, brow quirked, frowning. 

"Don't be scared. My Daddy says that whenever you get scared to just remember that there's someone out there who loves you." she offers a small smile. 

"I have my Mommy and Daddy, and you have your brother, right?"

Sam blinks, slowly looking down at her and gives a nod, sniffling. 

"Yeah, I - I do." he tells her softly. 

"You'll be alright, Sam." she tells him softly, big blue eyes searching his face.

Pulling her hand from his face she sits back up, wrapping her hand around the chains once more. 

"Push me, Sam." she tells him. 

**_“…Because the greatest love of all, Is happening to me, I found the greatest love of all, Inside of me. The greatest love of all, Is easy to achieve, Learning to love yourself, It is the greatest love of all…”_ **

Sam turns his head, wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket as he steps back, pulling her with him, then rushes forward and under her, ducking and running out the other side. 

Christy squeals and laughs, "Weeeee!" she laughs more, throwing her head back. 

"Now I can fly like my Daddy! Free to fly like a birdie!" she giggles.

Sam watches her a few moments, smiling, before slowly walking around the swings to stand behind her again. 

Dean leans his shoulder against the slide ladder he is standing near as he watches them, watches as Sam continues to push Christy, soon laughing along with her as she swings, soaring higher and higher.

It's good to hear Sam laugh like that, Dean hasn't heard it in a long time, not like that, not full and rich, coming from his soul. 

Dean's lips curve into a smile as he tilts his head to the side.

Who would have thought Christy would know what Sam needed to hear. 

**_“…I believe the children are our future, Teach them well and let them lead the way, Show them all the beauty they possess inside, Give them a sense of pride to make it easier. Let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be…”_ **

Dean shook his head as he looked at the slip of a girl who couldn't be any older than six or seven. 

As Dean watched her swing, he thought about Sam, about his recovery. 

He's started out like that, just sort of teetering there, stagnant, but then slowly he'd started to climb higher and higher. 

One day, Sam would fly high like that. 

Higher than ever before.

Now, Dean knew it. 

Believe in it. 

Sam's laughter caught his attention as he once again pushed the girl high, making her squeal and giggle as she shouted, "Higher! Higher!"

"Yeah, Sammy, higher. Higher." Dean mumbled softly, smiling as he pulled away from the ladder, slowly walking over to his brother.

Reaching him, Dean wrapped an arm around his brother who stood behind Christy chuckling, dimples showing. 

**_“…And if by chance, that special place, That you've been dreaming of, Leads you to a lonely place, Find your strength in love.” ~ Greatest Love of All, Whitney Houston_ **

"I love you." Dean told him softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

Sam blinked as he fought to control his laughter, "Love you too, what was that for?"

Dean shrugs a shoulder, a small grin pulling at his lips, "Cause I can." he answers, before moving fast to push Christy even higher.

Sam laughs at him as her foot nearly collides with Dean's head when he runs under her and out the other side. 

The strength of a persons will has been marveled at for years.

People over coming the impossible, against impossible odds. 

They say what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. 

And that sometimes, those same people can soar the highest of all. 

**The End.**


End file.
